


Echo Effect

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of an almost Suicide Attempt, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Intrusive Thoughts, Literal Sleeping Together, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide contemplation, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, do not copy to another site, eating disorders related to symptoms of depression, mentions/threats of decommissioning, mild PTSD, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: For some clones, the story behind their name was a source of pride, or a display of their personality. Sometimes it was funny and teasing, but it was their name. Something all their own.Echo's story was not like that.
Relationships: 99 & CT-1409 | Echo, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555
Comments: 63
Kudos: 170
Collections: Echo&Fives





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger Warning:** This story deals with topics such as bullying, mental health issues such as depression and PTSD, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.
> 
> This story is and will be heavy on the angst. If you're not down for that, this probably isn't the story for you. Sorry about that.

_“We heard the orders! Stop repeating everything!”_

_“You’re like an echo.”_

_“Hey, yeah! Maybe that’s what we should call you. Echo.”_

It didn’t hurt. They were just frustrated.

_“Oh, sorry. What was that, Echo?”_

_“Didn’t catch that, Echo. You’ll have to repeat it.”_

_“Sorry, Echo. Didn’t hear you.”_

It didn’t hurt. They were just teasing.

_“Did… did you hear something?”_

_“Nah, coulda been the wind.”_

_“Or an echo.”_

It didn’t hurt. They were just…

_“There goes that damn echo again.”_

_“We should really tell one of the trainers about it.”_

_“Maybe they can get the speakers fixed.”_

It didn’t hurt.

_“We have a fifth squadmate?”_

_“Weird. Could have sworn there were just the four of us and that odd echo.”_

_“Yeah. Just an echo.”_

It didn’t…

It-

It hurt.

But Echo was just too sensitive.

This was his fault, after all.

If he would learn to say something useful, or-

Better yet. If he just didn’t speak at all.

That would solve all their problems.

Echo was the problem. So he would fix it.

No Echo. No problem.

*

They failed. Again.

This time, it was a new record.

The orders came in just fine, as they rose into the simulation deck. They heard them and knew what to do and what to expect. No need to repeat the order.

Except for some inexplicable reason, all but CT-1409 paused three whole seconds before leaving the platform and responding to the exercise. They all looked confused. Like they’d missed something.

CT-00-2010 tripped right out of the gate and was shot in the back by a clanker that would have been easy to take out.

CT-4040 was stunned by a droid he’d been aiming for, following after CT-782 who lasted about a second longer. CT-27-5555 ( _“Fives! My name is Fives!”_ ) stayed active another few seconds before he was swarmed by droids.

CT-1409 made it the longest, until his position was overrun and he was hit by several shots at once. Normally, the brief stun shots didn’t hurt much, just kept you down for the rest of the simulation. When six droids fire on you at once… well, that stings a bit.

The simulation shut down and reset itself. Domino Squad pulled themselves to their feet, four of them looking royally pissed off.

They headed for the exit, allowing Bravo Squad to try their hand at the simulator.

“What. The kriff. Was that?” 782 demanded as they stepped into the hallway.

“We’ve never failed that badly before!” he exclaimed.

“Something was off about that runthrough,” 2010 said.

“Wow, you think?” snarked 4040. “I thought it was perfectly normal, but no! Glad we have Captain Obvious here to point that out for us!”

“Hey!” Fives cut in. “Knock it off.”

“I was just-”

“I don’t care.”

Amber brown eyes zeroed in on 1409.

“Echo lasted the longest. What do you think?” Fives asked.

1409 schooled his expression as perfectly as he could. He didn’t want to be the echo that got on everyone’s nerves. He didn’t know what had caused their latest failure any more than his squadmates did.

He didn’t say any of that either though. The less he spoke, the better it would be for everyone.

1409 stared back at Fives for a couple long seconds before General Shaak Ti approached them. She looked about as displeased as a Jedi could look, he imagined.

They stood at attention and saluted the Togruta as she approached. He tuned out a little after she told them they needed to learn how to work better as a team. Again.

It wasn’t anything new.

They spent the remainder of the time slot watching the other squads go through the exercise. They didn’t all pass, but they all got further than Domino Squad, that was for sure.

*

The first day, despite the fact that they failed their simulation in under a minute and a half, 1409 considered it a success. He hadn’t irritated any of his brothers by opening his mouth and speaking, so he figured he’d made the right choice.

Why he couldn’t sleep that night was totally beyond him though.

They got further in training the next day. 1409 was exhausted, having been completely unable to sleep through the night, but he wasn’t the first one down, so he’d take it. But even still, everything fell apart even earlier than it usually did for them.

Everyone was frustrated by the end of it.

At Evening meal, 1409 wasn’t all that hungry. He ate most of his food, knowing he should, but he was finding it a challenge in and of itself. The food was no different than it usually was, and he’d never had a problem with it before…

He shrugged it off. He’d be fine.

*

Echo was not fine.

Fives wasn’t quite sure when exactly he noticed it, but there was definitely something wrong. He couldn’t be certain, but he was pretty positive he was the only one from their squad to have noticed the change, as well. It’s not that the other three weren’t observant - they were (had to be) - but every so often (or very often), small things escaped their notice.

And the problem was… these were small things - relatively well-hidden and easily looked past. If you didn’t just _happen_ to notice, or if you weren’t looking for them, it was easy to turn a blind eye. Whether you knew you were doing it or not.

Fives, however, noticed. Hey, he could be an asshole sometimes, but he still cared about his brothers. And Echo… well, Fives felt closer to Echo than he did to any of the others. They hadn’t been batchers, but they might as well have been.

So when Echo started pushing food around on his plate, waiting until the last possible second to eat, Fives noticed. It was like Echo just had zero interest in the food, and- okay. That was fair. The food was not interesting, nor stellar. (Not that any of them would know what _good_ food was, but that was neither here nor there.) But it almost seemed as if he was running down the clock until he had little to no time to eat. Like he was creating an excuse, if someone asked.

Fives wanted to ask.

He didn’t.

It would fix itself.

Or, that was what Fives told himself.

Then he noticed something else.

For three days, when they woke at reveille and began readying themselves for the day, Echo was early. That wasn’t exactly a problem, but the dark circles forming under his brown eyes were. Or, they were a result of the problem, rather.

Fives once again couldn’t be sure, but Echo didn’t seem to be sleeping. If he slept at all, it was clearly not restful.

And that was causing problems in other places.

Echo was falling behind in training. Not by a lot, but enough to take notice of. If it was enough for their trainers to notice, it spelled trouble for Echo and the rest of Domino Squad.

On the fourth day, Echo was late to reveille.

Late enough that Fives had to climb up to his bed pod and open it up himself. He found the other clone lying there, fast asleep.

Honestly, he couldn’t even find it in him to be mad. With his brother’s current lack of sleep and lack of eating, he needed the rest.

Except that just because Fives wasn’t going to give him shit for it, that didn’t mean the rest of the squad wouldn’t. And man, whatever mood the other three were in today… They just kept going and going at Echo.

Fives could admit that he sometimes pushed jokes and jabs too far. But 782, 4040, and 2010 did _not_ know when to stop, or when enough was enough. Echo didn’t react to anything anyone said all day - even the trainers. He kept his eyes down and his head bowed slightly, and even when Bric asked him a question and demanded an answer, Echo said nothing.

Domino Squad was sent off to the freshers after that. They grabbed their shower stuff from their lockers, Echo leaving the area as quickly as he could.

When he disappeared around the corner, Fives grabbed the other three and manhandled them down onto the benches.

“What the hell, CT-”

“First of all, don’t,” Fives bit out harshly, cutting 782 off. “Second, the four of us need to have a talk.”

4040 quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“Just the four of us? Not all five?”

“No, not the five of us.”

“Is this about 1409?”

“No,” Fives gritted out. “This is about the three of you.”

“What did we do?” 2010 asked, almost innocently.

Fives glared at him.

“Tell me you’re not so completely oblivious that you haven’t realized what happened.”

“What happened?”

“Echo?!” he emphasized to them. “Our squadmate who’s not even talking to us?!”

4040 grinned, nudging an elbow into 782’s ribs.

“Finally-”

“No, you don’t get it, _di’kut_. This isn’t a joke, and you need to knock it off. Now.”

His brothers looked stunned.

“What?” 782 asked, now actually serious and confused.

“Echo’s not talking. Not just to us, but at all. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t communicate.” Fives ticked off a finger on his left hand. “He also isn’t eating.”

“He eats-” 2010 said, seemingly brushing off Fives’ concerns.

“Have you watched him?” Fives demanded. “Because I have. He doesn’t eat. Not enough.”

782 frowned. “Why’s he not eating?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I would ask him but he _won’t talk to us_.” He did not call 782 a dumbass like he certainly wanted to.

“Okay, okay,” 4040 sighed. “So 1409’s have a rough go of it this week. It happens-”

“It’s because of you three.”

All three of his squadmates looked highly offended.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fives mocked. “Did that hurt your feelings?”

“Well, I-”

“We didn’t-”

“It’s not-”

“I hope it did,” he continued, cutting all three off. “Because all the shit you’ve been throwing at Echo this week has _clearly_ done something to him. So either knock it off or I will knock you _out_.”

With that, he spun away, his bag of toiletries in hand and his towel over his shoulder. He passed Echo on the way to the freshers. Briefly, he thought he saw amber brown eyes flicker over him, but when he turned again to take a closer look at his brother, there was nothing. Echo just continued on towards their lockerbay to put away his stuff.

Fives shook his head to himself, turning back around and leaving.

His hair wasn’t wet.

*

1409 couldn’t keep his eyes open. At any given moment, he would give just about anything to be able to lie down in the nearest corner and just _sleep_. It never felt like enough. Sometimes he convinced himself that if he just slept through the night, he’d wake up in the morning and feel fine. He’d wake up rested and energized and ready to kick training in the butt.

Except that never happened. It had been three and a half days, and he was still exhausted. He slept all through the night - even went to bed earlier than the rest of his squad and was woken up later, too. He slept during rec time and could barely keep his eyes open during meals.

He couldn’t even focus during drills or tests or training. Suddenly he was falling behind all of his squadmates in literally every way possible. Even standing up straight at attention was leagues more difficult than it ever should be. It prompted a couple jabs from 4040 and 2010.

The jokes and critiques and mocking had died down. 1409 had honestly hoped that everything would stop… hurting so much if they stopped. They had, but… it didn’t help.

He was still hurting.

He was still absolutely exhausted.

First he couldn’t sleep at all, now he couldn’t stay awake. No matter what he did, he was tired.

It didn’t help that he’d lost all of his appetite.

He didn’t even bother pretending to eat anymore. Fives was watching him, he knew. But he couldn’t keep up the act. He couldn’t force the food in his mouth or down his throat. His stomach rolled just thinking about it.

At this rate, it would just keep getting worse and worse. He should have expected it all to come to a head eventually.

It did.

It had been two and a half weeks since 1409 had stopped talking, and nothing had gotten better. He felt worse than he ever had, and the squad’s performance (already hardly acceptable at _best_ ) was slipping even further. Fives was watching him and the other three were suddenly not speaking to him either.

Communication, which had already broken down, was completely non existent.

But of course, today was the final test for their current training block.

Bravo Squad went first today.

1409 tried to pay attention. Really, he did. He wanted to know what they were supposed to be doing, what their objective was. Of course, he already knew the objective, but he’d have to work doubly hard for it today, so every bit of information helped. If he could even hold onto it.

Domino Squad went third.

1409 didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep during the second squad’s runthrough until the buzzer was sounding and he was jerking upwards. His eyes flew open.

 _Kriff_. There was no way he was getting through this.

When he stood to follow after 2010 into the training arena, his head suddenly went floaty and weird. He stumbled a couple steps, an odd sense of zero gravity nearly taking him down to the durasteel floor.

“Echo?” a voice said behind him. The accent was weird. He wasn’t sure why that mattered. “Are you okay?”

1409 didn’t respond.

Each footfall forward was like climbing a mountain. Not that he’d ever done that, but he could imagine it. Every blink of his eyes brought him closer and closer to passing out. He was sure he’d topple over any second. He’d never done that either, but it was looking increasingly more likely. His stomach churned and threatened to spill what little he’d eaten that morning, even though he’d had nothing at midday.

Everything was too hot and the air too close. Was the whole room spinning, or was it just 1409?

“Come on, Echo,” 782 hissed as they paused at the entryway. “You look like _haran_ , but I need you to get a grip. Got it?”

782 pulled 1409 close to himself, staring in at him through their visors. He could only blink at his older brother, swaying on his feet.

The hard look on his squadmate’s face softened just a fraction.

“Just get through this test and we’re home free, okay?”

1409 couldn’t tell if it was a miracle or a mistake that he nodded his acknowledgement. Whatever it was, the world titled dangerously on its axis.

“Guys, we can’t go through the test like this!” 2010 hissed. “Nevermind that we’ll fail. There’s something wrong with him!”

Who? What was wrong with… who?

“He’s not gonna make it…”

Who were they talking about? Was Fives okay?

“Well, it’s too late to back out now.”

“We should call for General Ti.”

Suddenly there were hands on 1409’s shoulders and a face close to his own.

When had 782 moved?

“Echo?” the face said at him. His voice sounded weird. “Echo, you with me? I know you’re not talking to us right now, but you gotta tell me if you can make it through this.”

Through… what? What were they doing?

Something loud and painful pierced through the air, striking through 1409’s head like a hammer. He flinched, jerking against the hold on his shoulders. His eyes closed, bringing a blessed darkness that threatened to drag him under forever.

 _Sleep,_ it whispered at him. _Just rest awhile._

“Echo!”

His eyes snapped open.

He didn’t… like that name. Right?

_“Domino Squad. Report to the simulation deck now.”_

1409 flinched again at the voice that came over the com in his helmet.

“Too late,” someone on 1409’s right said. “We’re just gonna have to fail.”

“He’s going to get hurt out there.”

“We don’t have a choice now!”

_“Domino Squad! Now!”_

1409 didn’t mean to whimper. The sound scratched his throat raw.

“There’s always a choice-!”

“Not today!”

1409 felt himself be shoved forward. He stepped with the motion, his knees almost buckling under his weight. Was he still standing? He must be. The hands didn’t leave his shoulders.

A voice spoke into his ear again, saying words that almost made sense. He couldn’t catch any of them, but he thought he heard something about capturing a marker.

The world around him didn’t make any more sense than the voice in his ear. Portions of the floor were moving, and that was both weird and normal at the same time. 1409 was almost positive the room was tilted at a thirty degree angle.

A blast of sharp, electric blue fizzled past him.

Oh. They were in the test.

1409 raised his blaster, aimed, and took out two droids. There was a hand at his shoulder again, guiding him forward towards cover. Three of his squadmates were already there.

He stepped forward. His leg didn’t take his weight.

The world crushed straight down on him out of nowhere, bringing him to the floor with an exhausted grunt of pain.

There were several shouts of his name all around him, echoing through his mind.

Everything went fuzzy and dark.

The lights through the deck went red.

The last thing he heard was a sharp blaring horn. It faded away until…

Nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning:** mentions/references to suicidal thoughts/ideation and mentions of decommissioning (technically murder).

The world filtered back in harshly.

He thought perhaps it was the voices that woke him. They were certainly loud enough. 1409 tried not to flinch away from everything - the hum of machines, the beeping of monitors, the dissatisfied lilt of unhappy voices.

“-no reason for this clone to have behaved this way,” one said.

“It is likely defective. This one will have to be reconditioned,” another voice replied.

“Decommissioning would be best. The human mind is so fragile. If this defective behavior happened once, it would happen again.”

“Hm. You’re probably right, Doctor.”

“When the clone wakes up, we will evaluate him and make a decision-”

1409 did his best not to twitch at the new voice that was definitely not a _kaminii_.

“Now hold on,” the new voice said. “CT-1409 is a living being, not a broken piece of machinery.”

“Master Jedi,” the first voice began. “You know the risks of keeping this one on active duty. He could malfunction in the middle of a battle, and then what? He could take even more troops down with him.”

1409 almost _felt_ the shift in the room from the third voice. He thought he knew who it was… but he couldn’t quite place her.

“That does not mean this clone deserves to be put to death.”

“Decommissioning is a painless process, and best for the greater good.”

“Not for _his_ good,” the familiar voice protested calmly.

“Master Ti, you must understand. We cannot send him into the field, and even keeping him here as a sanitation worker would not solve the problem. We can’t afford the care he would need.”

General Shaak Ti. Of course. 1409 didn’t know why he hadn’t recognized her voice before.

“You care for 99, do you not?”

The kaminoans were clearly getting annoyed with the Jedi’s line of questioning.

“Of course, but he serves his purposes. The sort of attention _this_ clone would need, we just can’t afford.”

1409 didn’t want to hear anymore. Not that he could stop listening, of course, but he knew what was going to happen. No use prolonging the inevitable.

He was defective after all, wasn’t he? No good soldier was supposed to care what others thought of him. No good soldier got hurt over things squadmates said, true or otherwise. And those things had been true, of course. He was broken. Just an echo.

The GAR and the Republic had no use for a defective echo.

He blinked his eyes open slowly. The harsh, bright white lights of the room blinded him for a few seconds, piercing at his eyes and sending more spikes of pain lancing through his brain.

He was in a medical bed, softer than his own sleep pod, but not by much. A thin white sheet covered him neatly, in keeping with the pristine cleanliness of the medical room. An IV tube was hooked up to his arm, and he was suddenly aware of oxygen tubes in his nose. 1409 tried not to think about the feeling of it or how weird it was.

On the other side of the room stood the _kaminiise_ and General Ti. The two Kaminoans stood facing the door, their backs to him. General Ti stood facing them.

Before the Togruta said anything back to the longnecks, her eyes connected with 1409’s.

He knew what the Jedi thought about the clones. They were living beings and deserved to be treated as such. They believed decommissioning was wrong.

In that moment, 1409 wanted nothing more.

He tried to tell her that, silently.

_Just let them take me._

The Jedi’s eyes hardened.

She broke eye contact with him and looked back to the Kaminoans with a determined, though still serene, expression.

“I can help him.”

Even 1409 was taken aback. The longnecks seemed surprised as well.

“What?” one of them asked.

General Ti nodded firmly. “That’s right. There’s a way to do it. With the Force. I can- can _fix him_. He’ll be good as new.”

The _kaminiise_ shared a look between themselves for a brief second. Then the second one spoke to the Jedi again.

“Well,” she started, “show us. We would be intrigued to see this display at work.”

General Ti shook her head gently.

“It does not work that way. It will take a little bit of time. It is a form of healing and must not be rushed.”

1409 couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This probably seemed much too good to be true for the Kaminoans. A way to potentially not waste time and resources on defective clones? The Force could do a lot of things, as far as he knew, but this seemed like a reach. But what would he know? He’s just a clone and only knew what the longnecks and trainers taught him.

When again the first Kaminoan spoke, he seemed hesitant.

“How long would this process take, Master Jedi? We can’t afford to withhold a decision for long.”

“Well, I’m not quite sure,” Shaak Ti began, bringing a hand to her chin as if in thought. Something about the action seemed faked, though. 1409 couldn’t quite tell what game the general was playing at. “It could take some time-”

She was cut off by the first _Kaminii_.

“With all due respect, Master Jedi, we can give you two weeks. After that, a decision must be made.”

“Ten days?” General Ti clarified, looking just slightly shocked.

The Kaminoan nodded.

“Yes, and after that, we will decide what to do with the clone. If your plan has not worked by then, he will be decommissioned.”

A hard, determined look settled over the general’s features. She tilted her head back, lifting her chin and staring pointedly up at the Kaminoan.

“We shall see.”

With that, the longnecks gave short, graceful nods of acknowledgement and left the room.

Suddenly it was just 1409 and the general.

There was silence in the room for several long seconds. Then, just as 1409 closed his eyes again and slumped further into the pillow beneath his head and shoulders, the Jedi sighed.

“I know you heard all of that,” she told him. Her voice was tired, but still gentle.

He opened his eyes to look over at her. She approached him slowly, folding her hands together in front of her.

“You are CT-1409 of Domino Squad, yes?” She stopped at his bedside and took a seat in the metal chair placed there. 1409 wasn’t sure why it was there. “Your squadmates call you Echo.”

He felt his face twitch unhappily at the nickname, and turned away from the Jedi to hide the expression.

“I’m sorry,” Shaak Ti apologized softly. “I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.”

1409 sucked in a breath and pushed away the pain the nickname set off in his chest. Good soldiers _don’t_ get hurt by _nicknames_.

He shrugged. He still didn’t look back at the general.

“I see,” she said. He couldn’t tell if she really did or not.

“Well, trooper, I would like to help you. Would you mind answering a few questions so I can do so?”

He opted for the non-response of staying silent.

General Ti waited for a moment, to see if he might respond, surely. When nothing came, she continued to speak anyway.

“Could you tell me what happened?” she asked.

1409 didn’t respond.

“What do you remember?”

He said nothing.

“How are you feeling?”

Silence.

The quiet stretched on longer than 1409 cared to count. He didn’t know why the general was bothering, though he appreciated the idea of it deep down. The point was that he was defective. He was a cog in the machine that wasn’t functioning correctly, and the best thing to do was to remove and replace him.

He was broken and useless, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. No matter what sort of Jedi powers Shaak Ti had, it wouldn’t fix the fact that 1409 was just a replaceable clone. The _Kaminiise_ were right. He wasn’t even good for sanitation.

He heard the general stand, and then settled herself on the very edge of the medical bed. The movement drew his attention, forcing him to look back at her. They locked eyes again.

“Listen to me, 1409. I want nothing more than to help you. But for that to happen, you have to help me understand. You must talk to me.”

Her words and tone, though still not the harsh cruelty of the Kaminoans, held no room for argument. Which was fine, he supposed, since he had no intentions of arguing with her. He didn’t look away. He didn’t respond. They just stared at one another.

1409 had the distinct feeling as if the Jedi could see right into his soul.

Shaak Ti’s expression creased slightly in concern. “Are you not answering me because you’re injured? Does something hurt?”

1409 shook his head. He didn’t want the general to worry. He wasn’t hurting. He wasn’t injured. No need for her to worry over nothing.

The Jedi’s expression pinched in a frown. Clearly, that was not the answer she had expected or wanted.

“Why aren’t you answering me, then?” she inquired seriously. “Your trainers mentioned an unwillingness to respond to questions the past few weeks. Why is that?”

1409 looked away again, ripping his eyes from the general’s. He couldn’t stand the contact anymore.

How could he tell her that this was how he was going to fix everything? How could he explain that he was the problem all along, and this was the way he was supposed to put it all back to normal? The squad was failing because of him. The squad didn’t get along because of _him_. This was meant to fix that.

Everything else had been an accident.

He didn’t answer.

A sigh sounded through the room.

“Trooper.”

That tone brokered no argument. You pay attention. That was the tone of a general, demanding the compliance and obedience of a subordinate.

“Look at me.”

It was almost painful, but 1409 did so. He turned his head again, locking eyes with the Togruta Jedi.

“There is no magical fix for this. I can ask the Force for help, but there is no perfect thing that is going to help you.”

1409 felt his eyes go wide, staring at the Jedi. She had lied to the longnecks. She had spun a tale straight out of thin air and fed it to them as the truth, just to keep him alive for a little while longer.

“So I need your help. If you do not cooperate with me, you will die. I know you understand what you’re up against. You need to work with me. Okay?”

1409 didn’t want to be a problem. The longer he was kept around, the more of a problem he would be.

He shrugged at her.

1409 had never seen the sort of sadness that appeared in General Ti’s eyes before. Her eyes spoke of devastation and concern.

The expression didn’t stay long. The Jedi quickly shuttered it away, leaving him wondering if he’d seen it at all.

She gave him a soft little smile and reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Alright,” she conceded quietly. “If you’re not ready to talk, that’s fine. I do hope you will speak with me later. Get some rest, trooper.”

She turned away from him with reluctant eyes and made her way steadily from the room.

When the door shut behind her, 1409 was left alone in the room.

*

Fives stood as casually as he possibly could with 782, 4040, and 2010. They had been hanging around the medical bay, or as nearby as they could manage, ever since their test. Echo had been carted off by a medic, two doctors, and a droid, leaving Domino Squad to follow helplessly behind. No one had stopped them, so they’d assumed it was fine.

Echo had been out for nearly four hours, and in that time, none of Domino had been allowed in to see him. No one had spoken to them either.

Which was why he wasn’t sure who he was more concerned about approaching them. The two Kaminoan doctors who looked aloof and unconcerned as ever, or General Ti whose expression was as serene as it was steely.

It didn’t matter because all three of them reached Domino Squad at the same time.

General Ti, however, kept walking with nothing but a single command on her lips.

“Domino Squad. With me.”

The longnecks paused, their huge eyes narrowing slightly.

Fives and his squadmates hesitated only a split second before turning and following the Jedi from the medical center.

Her tone brokered no arguments and Fives wasn’t about to test that. He’d listen to General Ti over the longnecks any day, anyway. It helped that the _Kaminiise_ never questioned that response. The clones were bred to listen to their superior officers first and foremost. In this situation, it wasn’t the Kaminoans.

None of them dared speak a word as General Ti led them through white hallways and corridors. They were heading back towards the barracks. Before they could get there though, the general stopped in front of a door Fives had never been inside.

She pressed at the control panel, the door whooshing open to reveal a relatively small but almost cozy conference room.

“Sit,” she instructed almost kindly, gesturing with one hand at the chairs placed around the table.

They did so, Fives taking a spot between 782 and 2010. 4040 sat on 782’s other side.

The Jedi settled herself on the other side of the table from them and folded her hands before her on the white durasteel surface.

For just a second, there was quiet amongst them. Fives bit down on the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’ve been to see CT-1409, as I’m sure you’re aware,” General Ti finally began.

“Is Echo going to be alright?” Fives blurted out, unable to help himself.

He had to know. Their brother had been so pale and unsteady. He’d collapsed and seemed so out of it for several minutes - long enough for the trainers to finally realize there was something majorly wrong, shut off the simulation, and start the alarm. The thought of it still had Fives shaking a little, even hours later.

The Jedi held her hand up calmly - a clear sign for him to wait. Fives clamped his mouth shut.

“I have a few questions for you,” she said.

“Yes, General,” all four responded.

“Good,” General Ti acknowledged with a brief nod. “Now, have you noticed anything off about him recently? Any changes in behavior or mood?”

Fives opened his mouth to speak, then nothing came out. He hesitated. How did he begin to explain what happened? How was he supposed to pinpoint the moment everything began going downhill?

An elbow in his ribs dragged his eyes over to 782 at his side. There was a look there in his brother’s eyes. Something that spoke of fear and trepidation.

Fives frowned. Oh, _now_ the squad was worried about Echo. _Now_ they were concerned about his health and safety, now that it involved their own. As if it didn’t always involve them.

“Gentlemen?” Shaak Ti prompted gently.

Fives looked back to her.

Was he even sure this was a good idea? If the general found out exactly how bad Echo had gotten, that information would be relayed to the doctors, right? The Kaminoans would find out. There was no way Echo would survive that. They’d decommission him for sure.

“He’s been… not sleeping well, sir,” Fives began, trying not to seem too obvious. He wasn’t lying, of course. It just wasn’t the _whole_ truth. Some truth was better than none. Right?

The general nodded a little bit.

“How so?”

Fives shrugged uncomfortably. He could feel his squad’s eyes on him. It looked like he was doing this alone.

“Oh, well… some nights he doesn’t get to sleep so easily. So he’ll compensate later by sleeping more. To make up for it.”

“Alright. Anything else?” the Jedi asked.

Finally, someone else spoke up.

“He’s not eating as well, anymore,” 782 offered.

The general frowned slightly. “When did that start?”

782 bit at his lip.

“I-I’m not sure, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“Does he eat, though?”

“Yes,” Fives said.

 _Barely,_ he thought.

“Enough?”

Fives held back his flinch. He couldn’t half-truth that one.

“Uh…”

“Sometimes,” 2010 piped up.

_Lie._

Thankfully, the general moved on with a small acknowledgement.

“And what else? Does he speak with you?”

Fives could almost feel the way the entire squad winced and shifted uncomfortably. They all attempted to answer at once.

“Not… exactly.”

“Not much, no.”

“Not recently.”

“...sometimes…”

Shaak Ti eyed them carefully, his expression sharp and unsettlingly knowing.

“So he’s… distant,” she concluded.

Fives nodded. His own stomach was clenching uncomfortably, wishing this could just be over with. He respected the general, but the sooner they were released, and the sooner they could get Echo out of the medical bay, the sooner they could get everything back to normal. They could apologize to their brother, make sure he eats well from now on, and-

And it would all be okay.

“Yes, General.”

“And tell me,” she said, leaning forward to place her elbows on the table and steeple her fingers together. “Was there some catalyst for all of this? Something you know of that would have caused CT-1409 to withdraw this way?”

Something was wrong, Fives realized. She knew something. Something was very, _very_ wrong.

“We- we don’t really know, General…” he attempted to lie, knowing this could never have been a half-truth either. He just hoped she’d accept it.

General Ti nodded, closing her eyes. She sat there for a moment. As they waited, Fives glanced at 782 again, sharing a look with him.

Then the Jedi leaned back into her chair and spoke again, keeping her eyes closed as she did so.

“Domino Squad,” she began. “Half of a truth is still a lie in and of itself.”

 _Osik._ So she did know.

Fives knew something was wrong.

He felt himself deflate slightly into his chair. Good soldiers were supposed to have good posture, but he couldn’t care less about being a good soldier right that moment. He just wanted to know his brother was going to be okay.

“General…” 4040 said, his voice oddly quiet. The strange accent he sometimes spoke with broke through hard in that moment. “Is he okay?”

Fives watched his squadmate carefully. ‘40 looked small and too young in that moment. Remorse lined his face heavily.

Fives was still angry with how far they’d all pushed Echo, but at least they seemed to have recognized their mistake.

Shaak Ti sighed. She folded her hands together, pulling them close to herself.

“To be perfectly honest, gentlemen, I do not know.”

Fives startled.

“What?” he yelped. “But- he’s-”

“It’s up to him… and you.”

“Us?” 782 repeated.

“Yes. You,” General Ti stated simply. “Troopers, I want to help him. But to do that, I need all five of you to cooperate with me. CT-1409 is not currently speaking to me or anyone else, so it’s up to you four to explain what’s been going on.”

Domino Squad looked between themselves meaningfully.

“So please,” she continued, “talk to me. He’s facing decommissioning if I can’t help him and we’re running out of time.”

Fives’ eyes snapped back to the Togrutan Jedi. Decommissioning? Already? He thought they’d have a little bit of time before that!

“He’s going to die?”

“Only if the five of you - 1409 included - don’t cooperate with me. I’ve bought us a little bit of time, but it’s not much. If we’re going to save your brother, I need to know everything.”

Fives nodded firmly.

Okay. That was it. There was no other choice, and the general was on their side. He shouldn’t have doubted that, but there wasn’t time to focus on that. They had time now, and Fives was bound and determined to make things right.

782 sighed. Fives looked over at his brother as the older clone began to speak.

“A few weeks ago, we started calling him Echo…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first, I just wanna say, I'm _so_ sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out. I hadn't even realized it'd been so long since this fic was updated. This chapter also fought me at like, every twist and turn, and my inspiration to write has been a little... iffy, sometimes. But I _finally_ found the interest and will power to get through the final scene of this chapter so I could get it out to you. I'm hoping chapter four doesn't take so long, but don't quote me on that, so we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for being patient with me!

General Ti listened attentively through their entire story. 782 started it, accompanied by his squadmates. Fives took over a portion of the story, explaining how he was the one who initially used the nickname and then telling the general about confronting the other three. He still believed he’d done the right thing in telling them to stop, but something flashed in the Jedi’s eyes that made him stutter on a word.

The others let Fives take over when the general asked about Echo’s behavior the past few weeks.

He swallowed, telling her about how he began eating less and less until he stopped eating altogether. Then there was the sleeping, both too much and too little. He was sure she’d noticed in their statistics by now, but he was falling behind in training as well.

Finally, they caught up to the present in their story.

“Tell me about the incident this morning,” General Ti said softly, her hands folded on the table in front of her.

“He was… out of it,” 782 began. “He fell asleep waiting for our turn and when we woke him again, he was…”

“Loopy?” offered 4040.

“Not totally awake,” said 2010

“Confused,” Fives decided. “Not all there. He looked dizzy, kept swaying on his feet. Even if he was talking to us, I don’t think he would have been _able_ to answer any of our questions.”

“He was all but leaning on me just to stay standing by the time we made it to the arena entrance,” 782 cut in again. “I thought that maybe if we could just make it through the test, we’d be able to take care of him. Didn’t seem like there was time to do anything about it.”

General Ti nodded.

“What happened next?”

“We knew there was something wrong with him, but we were being called to the arena, and we didn’t know what else to do. It felt like we didn’t have a choice. We knew he could get hurt during the test, but… I don’t know. We should have said something.”

A non committal sort of hum answered him.

“Then?”

“We got into the simulation and- we tried to follow the directions, but we were all trying to keep an eye on Echo the whole time. He didn’t move with us like we’d hoped he would-”

“He took out two of the droids, but then when Fives tried to lead him to cover, he fell and didn’t get back up again.”

“The simulation kept going for a minute or two. We had to leave cover and get back to them.”

“I don’t think he was unconscious. He kinda- whimpered, I think, but I couldn’t hear him very well over everything else.”

“It took a minute for our trainers to realize something was wrong. We were trying to get their attention, but finally everything died down. They asked for us to report in, but we were too worried about Echo and didn’t say anything.”

“I think I finally said something into the coms? Told them something was wrong with him, that he wasn’t awake and had collapsed for no reason. That’s when the emergency signals went off and the lights turned red.”

“After that, a medical team came in and took him away. We followed them, to make sure he was okay, but no one would tell us anything.”

“Then you came and got us.”

Domino Squad went silent as they finished, sitting uncomfortably and awaiting General Ti’s response.

“I see,” she finally said.

Fives leaned forward in his seat, anxious to know how they were going to fix this.

“Truthfully,” Shaak Ti began, “this is worse than I had expected.”

His heart stuttered in his chest as he tried not to jump to any conclusions.

“We can help him, right?” 2010 asked, sounding as anxious as Fives felt.

Piercing blue eyes leveled on each of them in turn.

“I don’t know,” the general answered honestly. “We will certainly try. However-” she stood from her seat gracefully, “I see this will depend just as much upon _you_ as it does him or myself.”

Fives broke his eye contact with the general, gazing down at the table then.

“This is our fault. We’re the ones who started this and it’s up to us to help fix it.”

“Exactly. Now,” General Ti said to them as she moved to leave the room, “you four are expected at dinner, are you not? I will begin work on a plan and will speak to you later.”

“Yes, General,” 782, 4040, and 2010 responded, standing to give the Togrutan Jedi a snappy salute.

Fives went through the motions with them, then paused just outside the door of the conference room.

General Ti turned right down the hallway as the rest of Domino turned left.

Fives hesitated to follow his squad. He didn’t want to go to dinner yet. He didn’t even feel hungry. His stomach was churning uncomfortably, filled with nervous, anxious energy.

“General,” he called, making a decision and hurrying to catch up with the Jedi.

The Togruta paused, turning in her slow, serene way to look at him.

“Yes, Fives?”

“Can I see him?” he asked.

The general’s face stayed totally passive as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and responded.

“No, Fives.”

“But, sir-”

“The answer is no. I know you have his best intentions at heart, but tonight is not the night. I will take you to see him tomorrow. For tonight, he needs his rest, and a little space from the four of you.”

Fives frowned.

“I-”

“You had a hand in this as well. I know you know that. 1409 is hurt and for right now, we must respect his boundaries. If he does not wish to talk to you, that’s that. I will start on a plan while you join your brothers at dinner. We will reconvene later. Understood?”

Fives deflated slightly, still frowning. He hadn’t _meant_ to hurt his squadmate.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” General Ti took her hand from his shoulder. “Now off you go.”

“Of course, General.”

Fives turned, following his squad down the pristine white corridor towards the mess.

*

99 was friends with a lot of his brothers. There were some who didn’t enjoy his company as much as others, but that was fine. Millions of brothers, some of them were bound not to get along. That was just the way of things.

He was, however, close with a lot of the medics. It stood to reason, of course. He saw them often enough, whether for demonstrations or routine check-ups. Despite the _Kaminiise_ looking down on him, he was still kept in good health as often as possible.

So he’d been one of the first in the medics’ gossip pool to hear about 1409. 99’s brain supplied the name Echo out of habit.

Echo was in a private room in the medical center, not in a good way and potentially slated for decommissioning.

99 wasn’t sure exactly how much of that was true. Word spread fast between brothers, but it usually stayed relatively close to the truth. Except for when it didn’t, so you could never be too careful. Especially when some of the younger cadets got involved.

Echo wasn’t the youngest around by any means, but he and the rest of his squad also weren’t what anyone would call close to being done with their training.

So he supposed he would just have to go see for himself.

It wasn’t hard to beg off from breakfast and persuade his way into Echo’s room unsupervised. People tended not to pay him too much attention anyway, so it was easy to convince one of the youngest medics to let him in.

Echo sat there, alone, and looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. But his eyes did land on 99 in an instant when he appeared in the room.

“Hey, Echo!” 99 greeted. He kept a bright, soft smile on his face despite the ashy tone to his little brother’s skin and the sunken look to his eyes. He really did look like hell. The sight of him broke 99’s heart.

He pushed the thought away as he stepped closer to the bed. A wheeled doctor’s chair sat by a small desk near the counter. 99 grabbed it and wheeled it over, settling himself at Echo’s side.

“I heard you were in here,” he said conversationally. He pretended not to notice the way Echo’s posture stiffened and continued on. “Figured I’d see if you wanted some company.”

The younger clone didn’t respond, just continued to look at 99 with too-dark eyes.

“Bet it gets pretty lonely in here after a while,” he said absently. “I spend plenty of time in the med center. It can be so quiet.”

A brief twitch of Echo’s shoulders in a shrug was the only response that came.

“Well, what do you say? Mind if I keep you company?”

Aborted shrug.

He’d take that as a yes for now.

“It’s been awhile since we could just sit and talk, huh?” he started, relaxing into the chair as best he could. “Those _Kaminiise_ have had me busy in the labs the past few weeks.”

One of Echo’s eyebrows twitched upwards slightly.

99 took it for the question that it was.

“Oh, you know. Cleaning up messes, being a helping hand wherever they think I won’t break anything.” He sent Echo a conspiratorial little grin. “Between you and me though, I break less things than some of the _baar’ure_ do.”

Both eyebrows shifted upwards this time.

99 laughed.

“Oh yeah, they aren’t always as careful as they like to act,” he said. “But, some of these medics in training could become real doctors if given the chance. I know there’s one brother- he’s real talented, even though he’s still young. Calls himself Kix. Think it was because he’d once kicked a batchmate in the shins for not going to medical after an accident.”

Echo’s eyes glimmered slightly in amusement.

“Anyway, he could be a doctor. A real one, I mean. Work in a hospital somewhere with patients and everything. He’d be good at it.”

There was silence for just a few seconds. Echo didn’t respond in any way, just continued to look at 99. His posture was easing though; becoming more relaxed. The older clone would count that as a win, so he continued on with the first thing that came to mind.

“I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you about what I caught some of the younger cadets doing.” He chuckled. “Oh, they’re lucky I found ‘em and not one of the ARCs.”

The slightly quirked, questioning eyebrow was back.

“So,” 99 started, “I was doing my rounds near the pool. It was late at the time. Lots of messes in the labs that day. As I’m heading down the hallway, I hear something in the pool deck. I go in, and there they are. Three cadets in blue and red.

“One’s yelling at the other two, tugging at ‘em. They’re just laughing their fool heads off.”

One of the laughing boys had hair longer and shaggier than 99 typically saw on brothers.

“Well, he tries to pull one of them away. They struggle and then the next thing I know, they’re both crashing into the pool!” 99 laughed, almost missing the humor that flickered through Echo’s eyes. “All three of them come up, the first two are laughing like there’s no tomorrow, their brother still yelling at them.

“Well, I go in as the two start to splash each other and the other one. It takes them too long to realize I’m there. By the time I’m standing at the edge of the pool, staring down at them, there’s a full-blown water fight going on and even the third cadet is starting to laugh. The youngest one - with the long hair - sees me and all of them freeze.

“They drag themselves out of the pool, and stand there, looking guilty and sopping wet.”

The look in his brother’s eyes asked what he did next.

“I tried to give them a firm look, but I don’t think it worked very well. I couldn’t stop smiling. They’re just kids, playing around like all our brothers should be able to. So I helped them get dried off and into dry uniforms before I sent them back to their barracks.

“Then I went to clean the security room and - maybe - had a look at the tapes from the pool deck.”

Echo’s eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead. It was the most drastic expression he’d seen on the cadet so far. It threatened to crack 99’s heart in two.

Instead, he smirked and leaned forward, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial manner.

“I _may_ have erased the footage and done some editing. To make it look like we were never there.”

Echo’s eyes went impossibly wider.

Then, the door opened behind 99 and a medic came in. He had a tray of food in his hands, held carefully so the cup of vitamin water wouldn’t tip over. He handed the tray off to Echo, who took it with a carefully neutral expression, then turned to leave. 99 got a smile as the medic left. It was Kix.

Kix left without a word, just as quick as he had come.

99 looked back to Echo, who stared down at his tray of food like the meal had personally offended him.

Judging from the weight his brother had clearly lost, 99 figured the cadet hadn’t been eating recently. Or, not enough. He wondered what had started that.

“I can leave while you eat, if you like,” he offered. He kept his tone light and gentle, lowering it just slightly. He couldn’t remember hearing the door shut all the way behind Kix.

Without looking up at him, Echo shook his head slightly.

“Alright, well,” 99 shifted, taking a steadying breath. “I can stay as long as you like. Take your time. I’ve got nowhere to be just yet.”

A slight nod came, but he didn’t make any move to begin eating.

“Think you could at least take a drink of water for me?” he prompted. 99 didn’t want to touch a nerve, or overstep any bounds, but he would start somewhere. He wasn’t going to just leave his brother to suffer alone.

Echo raised one hand to grasp at his cup, lifting it and drinking some of it slowly.

99 smiled. He grasped quickly for another story to tell.

“Care to hear another story?” A nod. “Alright. So there’s this brother, Cody - he’s a Marshal Commander, you know - and when we were little, he had a nasty run-in with a loth cat…”

And so it went. 99 didn’t care to pay attention to the amount of time he spent with his little brother. He was just happy to stay with him. He told him story after story as he persuaded Echo to eat bites of his breakfast here and there. Finally, the food was gone, and 99 was nowhere near running out of stories. But he was running out of time. Actually, he realized, he’d _already_ run out of time. He had duties to attend to.

He really hated to leave Echo alone. 99 still didn’t have many more answers than when he’d first arrived in the medical center, but he could tell the situation was dire. He knew now that Echo hadn’t been talking and hadn’t been eating. He likely hadn’t even been sleeping. And leaving Echo alone felt like a mistake.

But if 99 was late, there’d be hell to pay.

He sighed.

“Well, as much as I hate to say it, there’s work to be done.” He stood up from his chair and carefully wheeled it back to its spot by the desk. “I’ve enjoyed getting to talk with you, Echo. Doesn’t happen often enough. Would you mind if I came and found you again soon? Maybe we can eat dinner together?”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Echo’s eyes, but only for a moment. Then he smiled, ever so slightly, and nodded.

99 could feel the unbidden tears welling in his eyes from the soft little expression.

“Great,” he said, swallowing against the choked feeling in his throat. “I’ll see you later, _vod’ika_.”

Echo’s mouth moved, just the whisper of a sound coming out that squeaked softly.

“Bye.”

99 smiled again, past his oncoming tears, and turned to leave before Echo could see them.

The door was ajar just slightly, leaving a few inches of space open to the rest of the medical center.

When 99 opened it the rest of the way and exited the room, he found General Ti and the rest of Domino Squad there. He wondered how long the five had been standing there. A sneaking suspicion told him long enough to have heard - and seen - most of his time with Echo.

The guilty expressions on Fives’, Hevy’s, and their brothers’ faces spoke volumes of what they knew about the situation. Somehow, 99 was suddenly sure, this had a lot to do with them.

A rare spike of anger flared in his chest. His expression pinched slightly.

“I’d like to talk to you four soon,” he said simply. His brothers just nodded obediently, lowering their eyes so as not to meet his.

He nodded at them, sent General Ti a soft and respectful smile, and then headed off to get started on his morning routine.

*

Fives almost couldn’t pull his eyes away. He couldn’t stop staring.

He hadn’t seen Echo smile in _weeks_. He’d even talked. Which was so much more than Fives could say for any interaction he’d had with his brother for a long time.

The relief that coursed through his body was nearly palpable. A weight seemed to lift from him, leaving Fives feeling lighter and more able to stand tall.

A rock settled into his stomach without warning, bringing with it a sense of nausea.

This was _their fault_.

He’d known that. _Ka’ra_ , had he known that. But that didn’t make the rock any lighter or his stomach any more settled. Echo wouldn’t smile like that for them. He wouldn’t relax around them. He didn’t even talk to them.

99 turned around, coming closer to the slightly ajar door. Fives didn’t miss the tears in his older brother’s eyes when he stepped out of the room. His gaze landed on them.

Fives had never felt so small in all his life than he did under the unyielding eyes of 99. Old, usually soft brown eyes swept across all four of them individually. Fives didn’t dare glance away.

“I’d like to talk to you four soon,” 99 stated, words like and tone heavier than it should ever be.

Domino Squad nodded obediently.

99 left with a respectful smile at General Ti.

They waited just a second, standing in silence.

“Come on, Domino Squad,” General Ti said then. “We’ve no more time to waste.”

They filed into the room after her.

*

1409’s entire body tensed, ready to jump to attention, when General Ti entered his room. His chest tightened slightly when his squad followed her.

The Togruta Jedi was as calm and collected as ever. Domino Squad, however, was not. All four of his squadmates had these- _looks_ on their faces that just made 1409’s stomach clench uncomfortably. They wouldn’t meet his eyes, though he wasn’t sure he wanted them to anyway. Fives gaze was on him, but their eyes didn’t meet. 782, 4040, and 2010 kept their heads bowed slightly, eyes flickering around the room as they avoided looking directly at 1409.

This- This wasn’t what he’d wanted. He hadn’t meant to tear the squad apart!

He’d thought this would _help_ them! This was supposed to be better for all of them.

1409 had done this so they wouldn’t have to be annoyed by him, so they would be able to pass their tests and be the best like 782 and Fives always thought they could be. If it hadn’t been for their _echo_...

But this-

It wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

General Ti really should just let the _Kaminiise_ take him away. Even when he tried to fix   
things, he still managed to muck it all up. This was worse than it had been before…

1409 averted his gaze as well. He pretended not to see Fives’ crestfallen look.

“Good morning, 1409,” General Ti greeted gently, a neutral smile on her face. “How are you feeling today?”

He turned his eyes on her, just staring. He didn’t know how to answer that question. He honestly didn’t know that he even wanted to.

“Better than yesterday, I hope?”

1409 twitched his shoulders in a shrug. His general had asked him a question, he had damn well better answer it. He’d already screwed up enough things recently.

“Alright,” she agreed. Slowly, she claimed the chair 99 had been sitting in just minutes ago.

1409 wished he would come back.

“Now, we have some things to discuss before we truly get underway. Last night, I devised a plan that we will use going forward. Our ten days started this morning, so we have the next two weeks to work. Okay?” 1409 didn’t respond. The Jedi continued on after a moment anyway. “Our working plan is this:

“Domino Squad will be moving into a different bunk room. It will be separate from the barracks, and private to just you five. It will have traditional bunks rather than the pods you are used to. Your training will continue in a modified fashion, to account for your new schedule.

“You and I will be working together in meditation practice and sessions of a type of Force Healing. I will explain more about that later when we begin.”

General Ti shifted, crossing her legs and clasping her hands together.

“There will be new rules going forward. At meal times, you must be eating at least _some_ of your food. Your squadmates will be holding you to that and reporting to me. You will have time in which all of you can be alone for some downtime, but generally, you will spend the next ten days attached at the hip.

“You will sleep together, eat together, train together, and - mostly importantly - _talk_ together.

“Now-” She looked at him very pointedly, forcing him to meet her gaze. “1409, this is going to push you. You may not be ready for that, and this may not be in any way pleasant, but this is the best plan we have to help you. So, are you willing to give this a try?”

1409 stared at her, feeling nearly in shock. Those were a lot of changes. A lot of rules.

Why did there have to be so much effort? Were the others even _willing_ to go along with this, or was it just because it’s what the general ordered?

All four of his squadmates were looking at him now - really _looking_ at him. He couldn’t identify what it was he saw there in their faces. It was sad and hurt and hopeful and defeated, all at the same time. They looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him to agree.

A sudden and unexpected flash of anger lanced through him.

He couldn’t do _anything_ right, could he?

First, he talked too much. Then, he didn’t talk _enough_. And now, they wanted him to try something _else_ that likely wouldn’t work in the long run. At what point was everyone finally going to realize that maybe Echo just _wasn’t worth it_?

But then-

He remembered 99’s smile. His laugh.

His _ori’vod_ had just spent time with him, sitting and talking, telling him stories and making jokes like nothing was wrong. Like he wouldn’t have rathered be anywhere else, or doing anything else. He didn’t want anything from Echo except company and time. He just wanted to make his _vod’ika_ smile.

Echo hadn’t felt alone for the first time in weeks with 99. He was still exhausted, but he felt a little more energy in his bone-tired body. He’d eaten a whole meal with his brother, and he didn’t feel sick. He mostly didn’t regret it, but it’d been worth it to see the proud, supportive look on the older clone’s face.

99 had _called_ him Echo like that was his name. Like it wasn’t a descriptor or a joke. It was just _him_ and who he was.

1409 was Echo and Echo was 99’s little brother. And that was good enough for him.

Echo looked around at his squadmates and general again. A new part of him was mad, possibly at them, possibly at himself. He didn’t want to do this for them. He didn’t want to do this for General Ti.

He wasn’t even sure he really wanted to do this for _himself_.

But, 99?

Echo would do it for 99. He had a promise to uphold anyway.

He’d agreed to eat dinner with his older brother. And he was nothing if not true to his word.

Echo locked eyes with General Ti, a determination boiling hot like molten durasteel through his whole being.

He nodded firmly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Blazesurrender for gushing a little bit about this story a few days ago, and for providing me a springboard to finally get this chapter kicked off. Blaze, I hope you like this <3

_’I can’t do this…’_ Echo thought, eyeing the bunkroom around him.

He’d been allowed to choose his bed first, before the rest of his squad. There were two double bunks, and a single one low to the ground like the bottom beds. He chose one of the top bunks. It would be weird, not sleeping in a bed pod. The rest of the room was mostly empty, save for the semi-public cubbies along one wall. Similar to their lockers in the barracks, these were set into the wall, but there was no sliding mechanism and no doors.

Oddly enough, and quite unexpectedly, this particular bunk room had an attached separate refresher. The shower area was set apart from the toilets and sinks by a wall, but was otherwise just an open area with shower heads spaced along two of the walls and a central drain in the middle of the floor. Truthfully, it was similar to the communal ‘freshers they were used to, just smaller.

Everything about this bunk suite was designed for openness. Closeness. No secrets and very few places to hide.

_’I can’t do this…’_ he thought again.

Echo had sequestered himself up on his bed, huddled against the wall for maximum privacy from the rest of his squad. The others were either on their own bunks, or sprawled out on the floor together. Someone said something every now and again, but for the most part, there was quiet. It wasn’t the comfortable kind, either.

Echo was inclined to let it continue, lest he make something even worse by speaking again. The thought caused an unhappy little twist to cross his expression for a moment before he schooled it away. They didn’t have long to convince the Kaminoans that he was worth keeping around. Prolonging the inevitable wasn’t going to help their chances.

General Ti had left them alone in here so they could begin to talk amongst themselves — figure things out, as it were. Lay everything out in the open and find out where they all stand with one another.

That conversation had yet to start, and midday meal was fast approaching.

Finally, Fives sighed. Echo could just barely see him over the edge of his mattress. His squadmate was on the floor, next to 2010. Fives had slumped back on his elbows and was eyeing Echo up in his perch.

Echo shrunk down further.

“Alright, well, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” Fives announced. He stood abruptly. “We need to talk this out. _All_ of us.”

Echo ignored Fives’ pointed look. Thankfully, it wasn’t only directed at him.

782 hopped up from his bed on the other side of the room and joined Fives. He looked to Echo with a carefully open and neutral expression.

“Fives is right,” he agreed. “Echo? Do you want to go first?”

Echo frowned. A spike of anger lanced through him at 782’s use of his name. Then he did something he didn’t think he’d do again.

“You don’t get to call me that,” he whispered, clear and harsh. His voice was quiet and a little squeaky, but he enunciated each syllable clearly so that he wouldn’t be misunderstood. “I don’t like having a number any better than anyone else, but you don’t get to use that name. None of you do.”

782’s eyebrows all but flew up his forehead, as did Fives’. Echo couldn’t see the others, but he assumed they wore similar expressions.

They may have given him his name, but it was 99 who made it something special. Something that belonged to him — to _Echo_. They won’t take that away from him.

“I’m sorry,” 782 apologized near immediately. “What would you prefer we call you, then?”

Echo thought about it, his frown easing. He shrugged.

“Not Echo…”

He turned away from them again and laid down on his side, facing the wall.

_’I can’t do this…’_

*

Second meal was awful. 1409 didn’t say a word, though not for lack of trying on the rest of the team’s parts. They each attempted to start conversations, and even continued to try and pull their squadmate into them. Sometimes he would make a sound or look at them with these little microexpressions, but he didn’t contribute anything.

For all that it was frustrating, Fives would consider it progress that they weren’t being completely ignored. Plus, they had convinced 1409 to eat. It took prompting — something similar to what 99 had done earlier in the morning — and a lot of patience, but they got there. Their teammate actually ate his full meal before the meal period was over.

Unfortunately, the moment they left the mess hall, 1409 was making straight for the nearest ‘fresher. Domino Squad followed after him. They could hear their brother inside, getting sick. Silently, Fives was voted to go in and check on him, while the rest of the squad waited in the corridor outside, lest any of the _Kaminiise_ wander past and hear the commotion.

There were other _vode_ inside, looking curiously at the stall 1409 must have disappeared into. The door wasn’t latched shut, so Fives let himself into it with his squadmate. It wasn’t a space designed for two people, but Fives didn’t much care. He wouldn’t leave his brother alone.

“ _Vod_?” Fives said, kneeling down beside the slightly younger man. 1409 choked again, his meal making a reappearance into the toilet. “Can I touch you?”

Fives wasn’t sure at all that he got a response, but as his team mate continued to be sick, he couldn’t stand to sit there and not provide any comfort for him. He reached over and settled a hand on 1409’s back, rubbing gently.

“Hey, you two alright in there?” a voice called from outside the stall.

“Do we need to call a medic?” asked anoter _vod_.

Fives thought to himself, patting his brother’s back carefully between what he hoped were soothing rubs.

“We’re… we’re alright,” he called back. “I don’t think we need a medic. But… could someone find General Ti? Or 99?”

“99?” the first voice asked, confused.

“Just get him, please,” Fives sighed.

1409 coughed a few more times, seeming to go nearly boneless. He slumped and fell into Fives. He was panting — breathing heavily and looking tired and out of it.

“14?” Fives said. He kept his voice low as he spoke. “You alright?”

He swallowed and reached up to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. Fives grimaced a little and rubbed his brother’s back to ignore that little motion. It wasn’t his idea of fun to sit around, covered in sick, but there they sat anyway. Besides, some things were more important than one’s own comfort.

“ _Vod_?”

1409 sniffled and shifted against Fives’ chest.

“‘M fine…” he mumbled. “‘M sorry…”

“Sorry? What—”

“‘M sorry for ev’rything, Fives… I j’st wanted t- to help. Wanted to be better…”

Fives thought he might vomit, too.

“Shh,” he cooed, trying to soothe his brother. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“B-but I—”

“ _Udessi, vod_ ,” Fives shushed him quietly. “We’ll talk about this, I swear. But not here. Not right now.”

“Fives, I—”

“Just relax, okay? Just relax. You’re alright.”

1409 didn’t speak again — just trembled and shook in Fives’ hold.

“We’ll get out of here once you’re ready, yeah?” There was a weak nod against his shoulder.

The sound of hurried, uneven footsteps coming in caught Fives’ attention.

“Fives? Echo?” That was 99’s voice. “You boys alright?”

“U-uh… we’re in here, 99,” Fives answered, pointedly not responding to the older man’s actual question.

“Don’t think there’s enough space for all three of us in there. Can you two come out here for me? Let me get a look at you?”

1409 looked up at Fives, something in his eyes. Fives couldn’t place the expression.

“Is anyone else out there?”

“It’s just me, _vode_ ,” 99 supplied.

Fives caught his brother’s eyes again, putting a question into his expression.

“You ready?”

Slowly, jerkily, 1409 nodded. They shifted awkwardly, standing somehow and beginning to walk out of the stall. 1409 went by himself after a second when Fives stopped and turned back, flushing the toilet as an afterthought.

“ _Vod’ika_ ,” Fives heard 99 say. When he came out, 1409 was wrapped up in their _ori’vod_ ’s arms. “Echo, what’s wrong?”

Fives frowned slightly. 99 could use the name. He didn’t miss that.

“C-couldn’t— Can’t— I’m sorry…”

“Hush now, _vod_ , it’s okay. No need to be sorry,” 99 told him, holding 1409 close.

“I couldn’t keep it down…” their brother whispered on a sound that could have been a whimper. “I couldn’t— It was— It hurt. Had to get it out. Had to get rid of it.”

Fives frowned further. He wasn’t a fan of the way that sounded. Implied a little too much that 1409 might have forced himself to throw up. That carried some concerning thoughts.

He watched 99 with 1409 — how good he is with him, how gentle and comforting — and new that his presence wasn’t required there. Fives was not needed in this situation. In fact, him being around might actually make it worse. After all, he was one of the people who had hurt 1409 in the first place.

“99,” Fives called quietly. “I know what this is going to sound like, but I think I’m gonna just… give you two space. I’ll go back to the rest of the squad.”

99’s eyebrows pinched slightly. “Fives—”

“I’m just going to make this worse, I think. I’ll stand watch with the others and wait for the general. She’s sure to be here soon—”

1409 bolted upright from 99’s hold. Fives couldn’t place the look that had overtaken his brother’s face, but it struck some form of fear right into the center of his chest. He looked terrified — more than that, he looked defeated. Tears pooled in his eyes. His lower lip trembled slightly. The expression stole Fives’ breath away, leaving him staring wide-eyed at the too-skinny man before him.

“ _You_ ’ll make this worse?” 1409 parroted. “ _You_ ’re the problem here?”

“Echo—” 99 began, reaching out for their brother again. 1409 jerked away, throwing his hands up, twitchy and restless.

“No! No, no, no, this— This isn’t what I wanted! That isn’t right! It’s all my fault— Everything is my fault.” A scared, desperate look lit up 1409’s eyes.

Fives frowned.

“14, _vod_ , no. It’s not your fault.”

Tears slipped down their brother’s cheeks.

“Just let them take me,” he pleaded. “Please. I— I want to stop making it worse. I don’t want to be a problem. Just let them take me away. Please, please…”

1409 collapsed to the floor, crumpling in on himself.

Fives stared, knowing he should do something. He should go to his squadmate, hold him and reassure him — make him understand that none of this was his fault. He should get General Ti and the rest of the squad. He should be working to prepare for the next two weeks.

Fives didn’t do any of those things.

99 didn’t react outwardly. Not fully, anyway. Fives zeroed in on the hesitant twitch of his hands, the concern in his eyes. Then the older clone was perfectly composed again, kneeling carefully to the floor beside their brother.

The door opened.

Fives whirled fast, ready for anything. If the wrong person came in now, there would be problems — and dire circumstances.

Thankfully, it was just 2010.

“We’re causing a scene, Fives,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “We’re gonna start attracting the Kaminoans’ attention. General said to get back to the bunks.”

Fives nodded and sent him back out of the ‘fresher.

He turned back to 99 and 1409. They were still on the floor, 99 saying things that Fives couldn’t hear.

“ _Vod_ ,” Fives started as he tried not to choke on his own words. He stepped towards them slowly to join them on the floor. “14, listen. I have _no_ idea what you’re going through. I have no idea how you must feel right now.” His brothers looked up at him, tears in both their eyes. “But I need you to hold it together for just a couple minutes. Just long enough to get to the room, okay? We’ll talk there.”

99 nodded at Fives seriously.

“He’s right, Echo. Up we go, come on.”

1409 less stood than he was lifted between Fives and 99. It was slow going, what with 99’s limp and their brother just _being_ limp, but that was fine. As long as they got out of the ‘fresher. As long as they got back to the bunkroom. As long as the Kaminoans didn’t take too much notice or interest, it would be fine. They’d be alright.

Fives hoped.

The rest of Domino Squad formed up around the three of them, acting as both guard and escort. Fives kept his eyes ahead of them, watching where they walked so they wouldn’t hit anyone or run into any walls. Their team kept their eyes behind and to the sides, watching for any sign of the _Kaminiise_ coming to check on the situation.

No one came. The brothers they passed just averted their eyes and kept walking.

It helped ease some of the tension in Fives’ gut. Not a lot, but some of it. It made it easier to get back to their room without incident.

_Finally_ , the door was in sight. Domino Squad and 99 hurried inside, shutting themselves in and pretending they could lock out the rest of the world. They couldn’t, of course. The lock on the door had been disabled while they’re in use of the temporary bunkroom. But it was the closed door that counted. The little bit of privacy that it allotted them.

Fives and 99 settled 1409 on the nearest bed — Fives’ bed. It was the one immediately below 1409’s and since it would be a little difficult to get their brother up there at the moment, this was their best bet.

“Echo,” 99 said seriously, kneeling in front of the younger clone. “Echo, breathe for me. I need you to breathe.”

Fives went cold. He hadn’t noticed until now, but— no, 1409 wasn’t breathing. He seemed to be struggling to pull air into his lungs, as if his brain had just forgotten how to do it. 1409 trembled, jerking and twitching — fighting against his lungs that wouldn’t let in a full breath.

Fives wished there was anything he could do to help.

“C-can’t—” 1409 forced out. “Can’t b-breathe…”

99 did some combination of shaking and nodding his head.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Just— just follow…” He trailed off, looking around frantically for a second. Then his eyes landed firmly on Fives, and he gestured for him to join him in front of their brother. “Follow Fives. He’s going to breathe with you, got it?”

1409 squeezed his eyes shut tight and nodded, quick and jerky. 99 took 1409’s hand and placed it on Fives’ chest, pressing his palm close against the red of his uniform shirt.

“I’m going to count for you,” 99 told them. “In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Ready?” He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement. Fives breathed in purposefully as soon as the numbers started to come.

He breathed in for four seconds, held the breath for seven, and then let it back out again for eight. 1409 had difficulty following at first, choking and coughing his way through the counts. They had to restart twice when he was overtaken by a fits of hyperventilation, accompanied by tears and harsh sobs. Fives didn’t hesitate to hold him the first time it happened, not thinking about how 1409 might not _want_ him so close. All he could think was that his _vod_ needed him, and he would be damned if he didn’t do what he could to help.

When he’d calmed, they started again. It wasn’t so bad the second time.

It took a while to fully calm him again. Fives had no idea how much time had passed when they were all breathing normally again, but it had felt something like mere seconds and long hours. The rest of Domino Squad sat together in a pile on the floor, watching with concerned expressions that told him neither of those guesses were correct.

1409 leaned heavily into Fives’ shoulder, his eyes closed and with no energy left in his body. He could have been asleep, if Fives didn’t know any better.

“Echo?” 99 prompted. “How are you feeling?”

Their brother sniffed and gave a soft little groan. “Tired…”

A sad, unconvincing smile pulled the older clones’ face. “Yeah, I would expect so.”

“W’nna sleep…”

Fives took that at face value, and without another second of waiting, helped to lay 1409 out on the bed. He nuzzled into Fives’ pillow easily, his still slightly hitching breaths evening out quickly as he drifted off.

“ _Usesii, Eyayah_ ,” 99 whispered to their brother. Fives pretended not to hear. It was clearly only for 1409’s ears, even though he was already asleep. “ _Mhi ven’cuyi olar tuun gar tranuu._ ”

Then he leaned away again. He took a deep breath, seeming to center himself, then turned very concerned yet hard eyes on Fives and the rest of the squad.

“What happened?”

His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly, but it broked no arguments. They were to tell him exactly what he wanted to know right that moment, and he wanted to know the truth.

It was times like this that reminded Fives 99 was just as much a member of the Alpha class ARCs as Alpha-17 was. He may not have had the same physical training for obvious reasons, but that was still his batch. Those were his brothers whom he’d grown up with. 99, despite how the Kaminoans looked down upon him, could be just as commanding as his _vode_ when the situation called for it.

And man, did this situation call for it.

“It’s our fault,” 782 said seriously. “We— we pushed him too hard, and not in a good way. Said he was just an echo and pretend— pretended we couldn’t hear him, among other things. We were mean and selfish and… and not at all the brothers we should have been. I-I don’t know _exactly_ what the final straw was, but he stopped talking. Not just to us, but altogether…”

“Hevy…” 99 sighed, frowning. “I don’t know what to say.”

Fives felt like a sledgehammer had just slammed into his chest. He was disappointed in himself for participating and letting it go so far, too, but to have their _ori’vod_ express it to their faces… It hurt. They deserved it, of course, but that didn’t mean the guilt didn’t slam into Fives even harder because of the look on 99’s face.

“What else?” 99 continued with a sigh. “I know that can’t be all of it.”

4040 shook his head. “He stopped eating, and his sleep— Well, I’m not sure. He either didn’t sleep at all or he slept too much—”

“Both,” Fives cut in. “He wouldn’t sleep for days, and then afterwards, he would be asleep any chance he got. It’s been like that for a few weeks now…”

99 nodded along, then lifted a curious eyebrow at them.

“And he was in the medical center yesterday because…?”

They all shifted guiltily.

2010 spoke up. “Training exercise. We realized there was something really wrong with him just before it was our turn to go in, but we didn’t stop and tell anyone that something was up. We didn’t know what to do, and he was so out of it. He’d even actually said words to us for the first time in weeks. It was a little shocking. 1409 collapsed, and we had to grab the trainers’ attention and get them to shut down the simulation.”

The older clone frowned, but nodded again anyway. “Okay,” he said. “And why has your squad been moved from the barracks to this room?”

The four of them glanced at each other, sharing scared looks. The rest of them seemed to be looking at Fives expectantly, as if he was the one who should tell 99 their brother’s possible impending fate.

“Boys?” the older clone prompted.

Fives swallowed.

“The Kaminoans want to decommission 1409. General Ti convinced them to give her time to prove that she can, well… _’make him work’_ correctly. They’ve given us ten days, and that started this morning. So, there’s nine and a half left for us to at least get him to work with us and _pretend_ to be better. At least enough to save his life…”

99’s eyes went wide. The color drained from his face, leaving him ashy and looking sick.

Fives had a feeling he knew what their older brother was thinking about.

_”Just let them take me. ...Just let them take me away. Please, please…”_

Fives was thinking it, too.

99 turned and looked at their younger brother, still asleep on Fives’ bed. Dark realization swam in his brown eyes.

“He _wants_ to die…” 99 said to himself.

Fives’ chest clenched painfully, and he bowed his head.

“I just hope we can convince him otherwise…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been so long since I updated this fic, and I'm sorry for that. Also, I know this is a short chapter, but while I was writing, this ending just seemed to jump out at me and my beta reader agreed. It felt like a good stopping point. So, sorry for the lack of content in this update, but there is more coming in the future, I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

Echo woke slowly. There was a stale, bitter taste in his mouth, and it pulled a grossed-out frown across his face. He smacked his lips together, licking as if he could make the taste go away as he rolled and shifted, stretching and waking up.

When he opened his eyes, a headache hit him full force. It was the kind around his eyes, in the front of his forehead, that spoke of a lack of water. _Ka’ra_ , he was thirsty. Echo groaned as he looked around the room.

The lights had been dimmed while he’d slept, but they weren’t off. He could still see around the room, which is different from the middle of the night when the only lights are the small, green and red glowing lights from the control panels at the doors.

He’s not alone, either. The rest of the squad is still there, too. They’re up and dressing themselves, getting into their training armor and grabbing their weapons. That jolts him partially upright before his head throbs hard and sends him back to the mattress with a groan.

“Fives…” he slurred slightly, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. He heard footsteps and a person come close and kneel beside him.

“Hey there,” Echo heard Fives say. His voice was low and quiet. Echo appreciated that. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Echo told him, forgetting for a moment that he shouldn’t be talking. “Head hurts.”

“I’ll grab you a bottle — just a minute.” Then he was gone and Echo was alone again. He could feel the others’ eyes on though.

Fives returned quickly and pressed the cool bottle into his hand. Before Echo even took a drink from it, he pressed the cool duraplast to his aching forehead.

“You oughta drink that, _vod_ ,” Fives told him. “The general’s coming in a few minutes. She’s sending the rest of us to training, but she said you and her are going to have a one-on-one meditation session.”

Echo nodded in acknowledgement, then finally took a drink of the water. Once the liquid touched his lips, he couldn’t get enough of it. It was ill-advised, but Echo chugged the water, hoping it wouldn’t make him sick.

“Woah, woah, slow down a little.” Fives put a hand on Echo’s encouraging him to chill out in his water intake. Echo nearly didn’t listen. He did anyway. After all, he really shouldn’t be doing anything to make himself even more of a problem for his squad.

“Sorry,” Echo mumbled under his breath, heaving in a gasp or two and thinking about taking another swig of his drink. He looked at Fives then, opening his eyes again finally, now that his head doesn’t feel like it was about to explode.

Fives quirked a tiny smile at him — sad as it may be. “No need to be sorry. I get it. I’ve woken up like that before.”

Echo didn’t know what to say to that. He shifted slightly, aware he should be getting up. He cast his gaze around the room. Their other three squadmates were at their cubbies getting ready, but 99 was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s—?”

Fives gave a tiny shrug and settled more comfortably on the floor by the bed.

“Not sure. He said he still had work to do, but that he’ll see you at late meal.” Fives’ face contorted into a disgruntled little frown. “Sorry about earlier. We’ll take it a bit easier in the food department.”

Once again, Echo was left with no idea how to respond to that, or even if he _should_. He couldn’t tell if that sentiment was something he was meant to have a response to or not. Instead of puzzling it out, Echo decided it was best to just not say anything at all.

It wasn’t the squad’s fault that he got sick, after all. It was just— so _much_. _Too_ much. His stomach had hurt so bad, and Echo was not a fan of being in pain. It made standing and walking nearly unbearable. He just had to make it stop. He had to get it out! He hadn’t really _intentionally_ made himself sick — it would have happened either way. But Echo never had been a fan of just _waiting_ for stuff like that to happen.

He looked away from Fives.

He should get up.

Echo started to lift himself from the bed, but found Fives’ hand on his shoulder immediately. Fives urged him back down until Echo was resting against the thin little pillow again.

“You don’t have to get up yet. General Ti’s going to be working with you in here, and you won’t need your armor. Just rest. She said you’ll probably need it.”

Echo looked at Fives and nodded again, if only to show that he’d heard him.

Within three minutes, the rest of the team was up and moving out. They each said a goodbye to Echo, and wished him luck in his time with the general, then they were gone and Echo was alone.

That lasted for about twenty three seconds.

There was a knock at the door, and Echo figured it was time he finally got up. He stood, forced himself through the brief wave of head-tightening pain, and then went to answer the door.

Sure enough, there stood General Ti in all her regal Jedi glory. Of course, Jedi weren’t supposed to be “regal”, but if Echo had to guess, Master Shaak Ti was what queens should look like. She smiled at him sweetly and greeted him. She asked to come in, and didn’t make a move to do so until he’d moved out of the way and gestured for her to enter the bunkroom.

The door closed behind her. Echo hovered near it, fidgeting slightly. Other than in the medbay, he’d never been alone with her before. And the medbay, with cameras and medics and _kaminiise_ , didn’t really count as “alone”.

General Ti stood in the middle of the room, relaxed and serene as always.

“Come,” she said finally, her voice soft. “Sit with me.”

Echo obeyed easily. He joined her in the middle of the room, then followed her example as he sat on the floor and settled into a comfortable cross-legged position. She rested her hands palm down on her knees, and Echo did the same, mirroring her because it felt like the right thing to do.

“I heard about the incident in the ‘fresher earlier,” she said conversationally. As if they were discussing nothing more important than whether the color red is better than the color blue. ~~(It isn’t.)~~ “Are you feeling better?”

Echo nodded without hesitation. Truth be told, he wasn’t quite sure _what_ he was feeling. It was a sort of mix of an odd kind of nothing. Mostly, he still just felt groggy from his impromptu nap.

“That is good to hear,” General Ti responded easily. “If you’re still feeling off, or if you start feeling bad, let me know. We’re on a timeline, but we’re going to take this first session slow and easy. Do you understand?”

Echo locked eyes with the Togruta Jedi and nodded again. It didn’t escape his notice that she was intentionally wording her questions so he wouldn’t have to speak if he didn’t want to.

“Excellent. Today, you and I are going to attempt some healing meditation. I will be focusing not only on the physical aspect of healing, but also on the mental.” She paused and looked Echo over for a second, then began to speak again. “Now, I would like you to keep in mind that I am no mind healer. I was not trained specifically for this sort of thing. I have the same basic understanding and background in Force Healing as nearly every other Jedi. These sessions will not be a magical cure, and most of the pressure and work will still be on you. This will, however, help smooth the way, and at least make it easier — hopefully — to sleep and eat, among other things. Does this make sense?”

Echo nodded again, taking in that information. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. It would still be easier if they all just allowed the Kaminoans to do as they wish and take him away. That would result in less effort and stress and strain on his squad and the general. Echo had only ever been nothing more than a problem, and now he was taking time away from what they really _should_ be doing.

But… 99 wouldn’t want him to think like that. He wouldn’t want him to just give up and give in.

Echo wanted to do this for 99. No matter how hard it was.

“Later, we will attempt more in-depth guided meditations, but for now, I would like you to just listen to the sound of my voice, and do as I ask.”

He nodded.

“Close your eyes,” she urged, her voice taking on a slow and flowing tone. It would have been difficult not to listen to her. Echo did as she asked, and closed his eyes against the dim light of the room.

“Roll your shoulders slowly forward—” Echo did so. “—and slowly back.”

He could feel tiny little pops between his shoulder blades at the movement.

“Good,” General Ti praised.

Echo wondered if she was watching him, or if her eyes were closed, too. If she was doing the movements along with him.

“Lean your head from side to side. Lower your left ear down towards your left shoulder, and then to your other side, lowering your right ear to your right shoulder.”

Nothing popped that time, but the slight stretch felt good.

“Relax your muscles,” the Jedi breathed. “Do not force it. Your body will relax naturally as we continue.”

“Now, notice your breathing. Pay attention to how it flows… in, and out. Make no effort to change it in any way, simply notice how your body breathes. Your body knows how much air it needs.”

Echo did this, taking note of things he’d never paid attention to before. How his shoulders didn’t move as much as his chest did. Indeed, sometimes on deep inhales, he could feel his diaphragm working.

“Sit quietly,” General Ti instructed, “seeing in your mind’s eye your breath flowing gently in and out of your body.”

They sat silently for a few minutes as Echo did as he was asked. He imagined his breath as soft wind — slightly blue and gentle as a breeze on a calm day. It came in, filled his lungs and circulated, then went out again, dissipating into the air around him and the general. He wondered if his breath smelled bad and if he should have brushed his teeth again when he’d woken from his nap. He couldn’t possibly smell the greatest right about then, what with the disaster that had been midday meal.

“When your attention wanders — and it will — just bring your focus back to your breathing again. Notice any stray thoughts, but do not dwell on them. Simply let them pass.”

Echo wondered if she could see inside his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if that was a power Jedi truly possessed. If they could, General Ti said nothing of it.

“See how your breath continues to flow… deeply… calmly… Observe the stages of a complete breath. From the inhale… to the pause that follows… the exhale… and the pause before taking another breath.”

These breaths Echo took deliberately. They were slightly out of pattern. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Echo let his breaths return to normal, and instead watched the stages as General Ti had told him to. This felt much more natural. A corner of his mouth quirked up in an approximation of a smile.

“See the slight breaks between each breath,” she said once he’d found his rhythm again.

“Feel the air entering through your nose. Picture the breath flowing through the cavities in your sinuses, then down into your lungs.”

_’I already did that…’_ Echo thought to himself, unintentionally.

“As thoughts intrude, allow them to pass. Then return your attention to your breathing.”

General Ti paused, and Echo tried not to sigh. He was doing this all wrong. Thoughts were coming, but he wasn’t letting them go. They wouldn’t _stop_ coming, either, and he was pretty sure he shouldn’t be thinking much of anything.

“1409,” General Ti said in a chastising tone. Echo peaked his eyes open at her. There was a small smile on her face. She’d sounded more teasing than anything else.

Echo felt himself go a little hot.

“I’m sorry…” he half-whispered at her — more mouthing the words than anything else.

The Jedi smiled at him softly. “Try not to worry about it. It is normal for thoughts to intrude, especially when you’re new to meditation.” Echo frowned at her, unsure. “Think of it less as pushing the thoughts away, and more like taking breaks. The thoughts do not detract from the meditation, they only pause it for a short time. Once the thought has come, let it go and take another breath. Just focus on your breath. Thoughts are natural, and having them does not mean you are failing.”

He thought over what she had said for a moment, then nodded again. That made more sense. Breathe, and when a thought came, bracket it with breath. Always return to his breath. Echo could do that.

He closed his eyes and settled himself back into a comfortable position again. Echo breathed, deep and filling, and imagined being able to see the air come in, circulate, then flow back out.

“Are you ready?” General Ti asked, her voice soft and airy once again.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, see the air inside your body as you inhale. See it fill your body, swift and gentle. Notice how the space inside your lungs becomes smaller after you exhale and the air leaves your body. Feel your chest and stomach gently rise and fall with every breath.” She trailed off, and let them sit and breathe together for a time. Echo did as she suggested, seeing the air in his body and then as it left. Noticed how his lungs expanded and then deflated.

General Ti spoke again after several breaths.

“Now, as you inhale, count silently. One… As you exhale, count… One. That’s all. It mustn’t be anything else or anything bigger. Just one… Wait for the next breath, then count again… one.

“Exhale… one.

“Inhale… one.

“Exhale… one.

“Continue to count each inhalation and exhalation as ‘one’.”

Echo breathed.

In… one.

Out… one.

In… one.

Out… one.

He wondered why the exhales couldn’t be “two”. Why did it have to be “one”?

He breathed. One.

“Good, 1409. Very good.”

Echo smiled.

“Notice now how your body feels,” General Ti said. “See how calm and gentle your breathing is, and how relaxed your body feels.”

He did feel relaxed. Tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying was strangely gone. There was a gnawing hunger pain in his stomach, but it wasn’t irritating yet. It was more of a mild reminder that his last meal hadn’t stayed down, and his body was in need of the calories. He’d been ignoring that call more often than he ever should have, recently.

Echo breathed. One.

“Now it’s time we gently reawaken your body and mind. Keeping your eyes closed, notice the sounds around you—”

The hum of the air filtration system. The distant, muffled sounds of troopers walking by the door out in the corridor. A drippy, leaky showerhead that had been left just _slightly_ on.

“Feel the floor beneath you—”

Hard and still cool, even now after it had been touch-warmed the whole time.

“Feel the clothes against your body.”

Clean. Soft, but not overly so. More worn-soft than the fabric inherently being so.

“Wiggle your fingers and toes.”

Echo bit back a giggle, beginning to twitch his toes in his boots and wiggle his fingers against his knees.

“Shrug your shoulders.”

He did so, shrugging and stretching and rolling his shoulders in little circles.

“Open your eyes, and just remain sitting with me for a few moments longer.”

When he did, the general was still sitting across from him. She smiled at him, soft and caring.

“We’re not quite done yet,” General Ti informed him. “Straighten out your legs. Stretch them gently. Stretch your arms. Roll your head back and forth gently, if you like.”

With his eyes open, it felt strange to do these things. He’d never had a problem taking orders before, so this shouldn’t have felt different. But with the Jedi’s eyes on him, Echo felt oddly self conscious about “reawakening” his body.

Until, that was, the Togruta joined him. She stretched her legs, her arms, rolled her neck slowly. It warmed something near Echo’s sternum to see her like that. Slowly, he joined her and set about his own stretching until they were just sitting silently again.

“How do you feel, 1409?” General Ti asked him as she folded her hands into her lap.

Echo thought on her question before answering, for once. That tension was still missing, for which he felt grateful. For that matter, his whole body felt looser, and lighter, than he had in months. He was still tired though — exhausted, actually. All in all, though, Echo was… good. He was well and truly _fine_.

“Good,” he told her on a whisper. A slight smile broke through and he gave the general a little grin. “I feel alright.”

General Ti smiled at him. “That is very good to hear. That is one of the intended side effects of Force Healing. It can leave a… well, a sort of _high_ in its aftermath. Don’t be alarmed though, these feelings are still yours and are not artificial in any way.” Echo breathed away the tightness that had gripped his chest. She must have known what he’d feared in that second. “I focused mainly on your body today, suggesting healing here and there where it was needed. You may find that you are more hungry than usual after this.”

Echo nodded. He had noticed that.

“That’s good. It will help in gaining back the weight and muscle you’ve lost and hopefully aid you in returning to a healthy eating schedule.” She took a deep breath and sighed, settling further into a comfortable position. “Now, we still have some time to spare before the rest of your squad returns and you head off for the late meal. We won’t meditate again today, so I would like to just talk with you. You don’t have to talk yet, so if you’d rather just sit there and listen, that’s okay.”

Echo settled in and looked at the Togruta expectantly.

She smiled and continued.

“This evening, after late meal, we will convene for a short time before the five of you are left to your devices for the night. We will be doing that every night for the next two weeks, and going through a daily debrief on how that day has gone. I will also be taking that time to tell you what sort of exercises we will be attempting the next day.”

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Echo asked quietly.

He was grateful for how she didn’t make a big deal out of him speaking.

“There will be some group discussion, of course. Some team exercises. You will be starting some simple physical training. We’ll still be staying pretty simple for now. And you and I will have another one-on-one meditation session,” she said easily.

That… sounded like a lot. Group discussion, team exercises, physical training, and another meditation session? Not to mention all the eating and hoping he sleeps well and the time when he’ll be left alone with the squad…

His face must have twisted in an unsavory way, because General Ti gave him a knowing look.

“I know that might be pushing it. I said simple, but there’s only so simple we can get. This will certainly be hard, I know that. Though I do not pretend to know what exactly it is you’re feeling and going through, I do hope that with some time, you will open up to us about it.”

Echo sat silently, taking that in. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if he wanted to say anything at all. Especially after the afternoon he’d had. He can only imagine what happened after he fell asleep — what the others talked about, what 99 was told, what 99 told _them_. Echo isn’t sure how much he really wanted to share — now or later. Though, he did recognize that it was necessary. At some point, it would have to happen.

He didn’t want this for himself. He just wanted to be out of the way. But for 99, Echo would do this. It was hard, but he would do it.

Hopefully.

They didn’t talk much for the rest of their time together. General Ti left Echo to his thoughts, content to sit and do some solo meditation of her own. She told him he didn’t have to continue sitting on the floor with her if he didn’t wish to. While he thought he probably should have stayed, as would have been respectful and all, Echo couldn’t resist getting up and climbing into his own bed.

Inexplicably, he was drawn to snag Fives’ pillow as he passed the head of the bottom bunk before pulling himself up into the top bed. He laid down with the pillow, smushing his face into it for a second and enjoying the similar-familiar scent. It isn’t particularly strong, since Fives had hardly used it yet, but that didn’t matter much. When Echo emerged from his little hidey hole, he peered over the edge of the mattress and watched as the Togruta Jedi meditated on her own.

Just watching her was peaceful in its own sort of way. Echo’s eyelids began to droop, heavy and encouraging him towards another nap. He was exhausted, after all… Hungry, too. His stomach growled lowly at him, something he would have ignored in recent weeks. But now, despite the experience with the midday meal, Echo found himself looking forward to late meal. Not least of all because 99 had promised they would sit together.

Echo liked when 99 sat with him. He was cheerful and told the best stories. Echo hadn’t felt sick after eating that morning. It had been a nice feeling.

He almost opened his eyes when he heard the door swish open, but the urge passed quickly. It was nice, lying still with his eyes resting. That was all he was doing, of course. Just resting. He wasn’t in actual danger of falling asleep or anything.

Well… he _told_ himself that anyway.

Then a hand touched his shoulder oh so gently, and Echo found himself blinking his eyes open.

Fives was there, standing just beside the bed and eye-level with him.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. “Late meal’s about to start. We should get going.”

Echo sat up and rubbed his eyes. He yawned.

“Sleep well?” Fives asked. Echo could hear the grin in his voice.

He shrugged, then slid down from the bed. They formed up in the hallway and headed off to the mess hall.

*

The meal went quickly. 99 found Domino within the first few minutes. Room was made on the bench across from Echo so he could sit with them. He talked about the day — the things he had to clean, the brothers he got to see. He told them, half under his breath, that the incident from earlier that afternoon had gone unnoticed, as far as he could tell. All the _vode_ who’d been around to see anything were steadfastly keeping their mouths shut.

Echo wasn’t sure why, but that information warmed his heart a little.

Through it all, 99 encouraged Echo to eat. He reminded him to take sips of his vitamin water and didn’t press him to go too quickly. The meal was almost over, and Echo only had a few bites left whereas most of the clones around him were done with their own food. 99 was still eating, too, so Echo didn’t feel quite so out of place.

All too soon, their eating time was up and it was time to get on with the end of the rotation. 99 smiled at Echo, reached out to him, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re doing well, _vod’ika_. Hang in there. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” the older clone said.

A slight sting appeared behind Echo’s eyes and made them wet around the edges. He nodded and gave 99 a smile in return.

When he turned back to his squad, they were watching him with these little smiles. Echo felt his cheeks begin to burn and he looked away. He didn’t know why they were looking at him like that. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to.

“Come on, Domino,” 782 told them in the next second. “Gotta report back to the barracks and see the general.”

General Ti wasn’t there yet by the time they got back. So they settled in and waited for her.

The others talked together about their training that afternoon — where they’d done well and what still needed improvement. The comment was made, though, that they still had to make sure they left a space for Echo. For 1409, as they were calling him.

Echo didn’t like being a number. He didn’t like having to use a number. Though… he didn’t know what else he would rather they call him. “Echo” was out of the question, and it would stay that way until he himself decided otherwise. And it wasn’t as if he was really keen on finding a new name just for them to use. They shouldn’t get to have a special name to call him.

Guilt burned through Echo’s gut as the thought crossed his mind. Maybe… maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe he didn’t believe that. But Echo didn’t know what else to have them call him.

Fives had called him “14” a couple times, but that just sounded… _off_. They’d called him _vod_. It felt better. Less wrong. But that wasn’t a name. The clones all called each other _vod_.

Maybe… Echo’s training armor bore the number three, so that could perhaps… No. That wasn’t right either.

They had to call him something!

Echo was pulled suddenly from his thoughts by General Ti coming into the room. It was just as well. He was getting frustrated.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the Jedi greeted them, serene as ever. “How was your meal?”

“It was good,” Fives supplied. “Everything went smoothly.”

General Ti inclined her head with a small smile. “That is certainly good to hear. As I explained to 1409 earlier—” Echo was _really_ getting tired of hearing that number. “—we will be gathering together every evening for a short time. We will debrief on the activities of the day, and I will give you a brief rundown of how the next day will go. So, let’s start with today. I think that for the first day, everything has gone as well as can be expected. Better, in fact. What are your thoughts?”

She looked around the room at the five of them, waiting for an answer.

As usual, Fives was the first to speak.

“I think you’re right. Today was pretty easy. We had an incident or two, but we made it out alright.”

782 nodded and agreed. “Yeah. Other than the midday meal, everything was alright.”

2010 and 4040 gave hums of agreement as well.

Echo just surveyed the room from his perch on his bed.

General Ti smiled ruefully to herself and clasped her hands in front of her.

“I think you just provided a fine example of something very important,” she told them.

All five of them gave her similar confused looks.

“What’s that?”

The Togruta took a breath and locked eyes with Fives, then 782.

“Notice that only one of you that didn’t respond, and it was the person for whom we’re doing this.”

Every eye in the room was suddenly on Echo.

He shrunk back and curled in on himself.

“Now,” she continued, taking the attention off Echo again, “I do not say this to chastise or make you feel bad. I did the same thing, and indeed, my example encouraged you to do so. Hopefully, this will be a lesson to all of us. Speaking over or for others isn’t going to get us anywhere. It could actually make all of our jobs harder in this.

“So, 1409.” Echo sat up a little. “How do you feel? Do you think the day went well?”

He shrugged immediately, but paused after and thought about it. _Really_ thought about it. Did he think the day went well? Were there parts that he didn’t like and indeed would have preferred go better?

Of _course_ the day wasn’t perfect. But… it wasn’t a _bad_ day. He’d gotten a couple naps, even though one was based purely out of exhaustion and hadn’t really made him feel rested at all. He ate three full meals, and only one of them made a reappearance. Meditation with General Ti was slightly frustrating, but over all, it had been good.

Mostly, he agreed with the Jedi’s and his squad’s assessment of the day. It could have been better by “normal” standards, but as it was, it could have been a lot worse. Echo had had a lot worse days. This was nothing, in comparison.

He nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Today was alright.”

General Ti smiled.

“Also something that is very good to hear. I don’t want to keep you, so we’ll finish this up quickly.”

She then explained to the squad what they would be doing tomorrow. Training, meditations, Force Healing, and team exercises. “Bonding exercises”... whatever those were. Echo didn’t listen too hard. He’d heard her earlier, and any specific information he needed would come tomorrow.

For now, the stress and exertion of the day and his belly full of food was luring him further and further towards sleep. He needed to shower, but the siren call was insistent and so, _so_ sweet.

Echo laid down on his side before the Jedi was even fully out of the room. His eyes were closed hardly before his head even hit the pillow.

*

Fives frowned.

“Where’s my pillow?” he asked. Glancing around the room, he didn’t see it anywhere. It wasn’t on the others’ beds, and they could only shrug and frown with him.

It didn’t make any sense. No one else had been in the room, and there wasn’t any reason for the general to have taken his pillow. Truth be told, the pillows didn’t really do anything. They were thin and flat, and didn’t provide much support anyway. Fives suspected it was more the illusion of comfort than anything else that the pillows provided.

Didn’t mean he didn’t still want his pillow, wherever it had gone.

1409 was already asleep up on his bunk, but Fives wanted to check anyway. He lifted himself up on his toes and peered across the bed. His brother was asleep, his face half-mashed into his pillow, but— yes, there. An undisturbed pillow sat just behind 1409 at the head of the mattress. It looked like it hadn’t been touched before.

_Oh…_

1409 wasn’t using his pillow, he was using _Fives’_.

Suddenly, Fives couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it.

He lowered himself again and sat down quietly on his own bed.

The others eyed him curiously.

“What?” 782 asked. “Did you find it?”

Fives nodded. “Mmhm…”

“And?”

“14’s using it.”

The other three’s eyes went wide.

“Oh,” they said, almost in unison.

“I wonder why…” 4040 said, almost to himself.

Fives shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve hardly used this bed at all. It was only this morning, right? It’s not as if it’s been particularly used.”

“Well, you did lay on it a little bit,” 2010 offered on a whisper. “Maybe it smelled a bit like you. Maybe it’s comforting.”

Fives wanted to scoff. He didn’t, but it was a near thing.

“Yeah, because he really wants any of _us_ to comfort him right now.”

2010 just shrugged and didn’t speak again.

No one said anything else. Fives sighed.

“Oh, well. Doesn’t matter. If he wants it, he can have it. I’m fine with that. And who knows… if it is comforting, I don’t plan on taking that from him.”

The others nodded and stayed silent. They didn’t talk much. It wasn’t quite late enough to go to sleep yet, but no one wanted to disturb their fifth squadmate. He really needed the sleep. If they could help him get the rest he needed, they would do just about anything.

Silently, they went about showering in the ‘fresher, then played a quick hand-slapping game for the hell of it. They didn’t go nearly as hard as they usually did, keeping the sounds of smacking hands as low as they could.

Before long, they found themselves getting tired, too. Fives drifted off to sleep, resting his head on his arm.

“Goodnight, _vode_ ,” someone said into the dark room. Fives wondered if he was the one who’d spoken.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** This chapter deals heavily with things such as intrusive and suicidal thoughts.

_Fives couldn’t see anything. All the lights had been shut off, and none of the emergency back up generators seemed to be working. He couldn’t even find the wall of the room — or perhaps he’d wandered into the hallway. He couldn’t tell anymore._

_A voice spoke, somewhere in front of him._

_”I don’t want to do this anymore.”_

_Fives frowned. Was that… Echo’s voice? If he reached out, maybe he could—”_

_”I want this to end.”_

_His heart rate picked up. Something was wrong. This wasn’t right._

_”This isn’t worth it.”_

_He was stumbling through the dark now, searching for his brother. Fives couldn’t tell if he was going anywhere. The darkness around him didn’t move, and nothing gave away his surroundings._

“Echo?”

_”Take me, please.”_

_Fives began to sprint towards Echo’s voice, never seeming to get any closer._

“Echo!”

_”Good soldiers don’t feel this way.”_

_Fives’ breath came in quick, harsh pants. His arms pumped at his sides, pushing him to go faster. His feet pounded against the floor, echoing into the seemingly vast, unending space.”_

_”Please, just get it over with. Take me.”_

_Then a new voice answered. It was slow and soft, almost calming if the sound of it didn’t strike fear straight through Fives’ gut. A_ Kaminii _was there._

_”Come along, CT-1409. It will all be over soon.”_

“Echo!!”

A hand clapped over Fives’ mouth.

His eyes flew open. Fives was half out of bed with a hand wrapped around 782’s throat before he was fully awake. Thankfully, he’d yet to put any force into the hold. It was easy to let go and pull back to himself.

782 stared at him with uncertain eyes. One of his hands had gone instinctively to his throat, holding gently as if making sure he could still breathe.

Fives, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he _could_ breathe. His breath came fast and sharp — more gasping than breathing.

“H-hevy, I’m sorry,” Fives panted. “I-I didn’t— Sorry.” He hardly even noticed when the name 99 called 782 slipped out. Fives had never even called him that. He couldn’t figure out why he would have used it now.

As it was, 782 didn’t say anything about it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered back. “Must have been some nightmare.”

Fives gulped in air, swallowed, and panted again. “Yeah,” he admitted between breaths. “Some nightmare. Sorry I woke you.”

782 shook his head.

“Was already up. Didn’t want you waking ‘14, though.”

Fives frowned. “Why?”

Hevy’s expression darkened slightly. He settled on Fives’ bed and lowered his voice further.

“You were calling for him. Called him ‘Echo’...”

_Osik._ Of course he had.

Fives ran a hand through his hair, finding it damp and drenched in sweat. He was gross.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again,” he said under his breath, finally feeling his heart rate coming back down.

782 nodded silently. They sat together for several minutes, not saying anything more.

Fives sighed. “Go to bed, _vod_. I’m fine.”

The squad leader nodded and took that at face value. He stood up and padded back to his own bunk. They both laid down, and Fives stared up at the underside of 1409’s bed.

_’Some nightmare…’_ he thought to himself.

*

The morning meal went smoothly. The squad seemed to have taken a page out of 99’s book and had scaled back their encouragement for Echo to eat. It also didn’t escape Echo’s notice that they’d slowed down their own speed as well, ensuring that he was not the last one done. It was… nice of them.

Fives didn’t take the last bite of his own meal until Echo was ready to do the same. That actually made him want to smile.

Want to.

He didn’t. Not yet. It wasn’t that he was intentionally keeping it from them. He didn’t want to lie or anything. But… Echo couldn’t explain it. With so many eyes on him, it was hard. Just smiling was hard.

After they were done and had cleaned up, it was time for individual physical training. This mostly meant workouts.

General Ti met them at the gym and took them away to a secluded corner. The Jedi explained what they would be doing, which wasn’t all that much different from normal, so when she dismissed them to get started, Echo turned to fall into their typical workout routine.

“Not you, 1409,” General Ti said gently, calling him back. “You’re not ready for your normal regimen yet. I’ll be working with you for now.”

Echo frowned, turning back towards her.

“But—” he said, starting to argue. The Togruta held up her hand and shook her head slowly.

“I know. But you’ve lost a lot of muscle mass, and you’ll need to build it back up before going full tilt into a strength training exercise.”

He huffed, but supposed that was true. Fine, then. If he had to start slow like he was a little cadet again, he would. He had to.

~~For 99.~~

Physical training was irritating, to say the least. The things General Ti had him doing were simple and light — and yet! Each of them tired him out. Every activity had him feeling winded and needing to take breaks and sit down and take deep breaths until his hands stopped shaking.

General Ti never begrudged him those breaks. She just reminded him to drink his water and take a moment and breathe. One time, after he’d been sent on a light jog around the track and came back all but unable to get any air into his lungs, Fives stopped his own routine to come over and check on him. Echo tried to brush him off and send him back to what he’d been doing, but Fives wouldn’t hear of it.

Quietly, and with a hand on Echo’s knee, Fives counted breaths for him. A single finger tapped out the pattern on his knee. It was more grounding than Echo would have liked to admit.

With Fives’ help, Echo found his rhythm a little easier after that.

In Forever and No Time At All, physical training ended, and they were off to the next item of the day. Group discussion.

This was their first session. Echo was absolutely dreading it. He knew what they would _have_ to talk about, and— He couldn’t really say he was looking forward to that. He didn’t even know what he would say. Several options crossed his mind.

‘I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.’

‘The things you said really hurt.’

‘I’m sorry I’m so fragile.’

‘You shouldn’t have to be stuck with me.’

‘This would all be easier on you if you just let them take me—’

No. He couldn’t say that last one. They wouldn’t accept it, just out of hand. Even if they don’t want to be going through all this, Echo isn’t stupid enough to think they would willingly let the Kaminoans take a brother away for decommissioning. Not if they could do something about it. And despite everything, Echo was still a brother. He was still a _vod_ , and no amount of screw ups and defects and useless echoes were going to change that.

They would ~~and were~~ putting themselves on the line for him.

The thought made his stomach churn.

After a shower and a change of clothes, Domino Squad met the general in a conference room. The Jedi master was already seated at one end of the table, facing the door. There were plenty of other seats to choose from when she gestured and requested that they sit. 4040 and 2010 sat a chair apart on the left side of the table, while Fives and 782 took the right side, settling with a couple seats between themselves.

With few options unless he wanted to sit immediately next to one of them, Echo sat himself down in the chair directly across from General Ti.

“Welcome, gentlemen, to group discussion,” she started with a serene sort of smile. “This is going to be one of the most important practices we put in place over the next eight and a half days.”

Echo didn’t doubt that statement, and it made the pit in his stomach open wider.

“These times are for open conversation. You can talk about anything that’s on your mind — anything you need to get off your chest or that you want each other to know. I will be here to play mediator for any instance that might require it. I encourage you to take advantage of this time together. Until you clear things up between yourselves, any progress will be difficult to come by. Understand?”

All five of them nodded dutifully, but didn’t say anything. General Ti let them sit in their silence for several long, uncomfortable minutes. Echo stared down at his hands, gripping the edge of the table tightly. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what they _wanted_ him to say.

And what if they didn’t want him to say _anything_?

Why would they want him to, anyway? He’s the reason they’re in this mess. He got them here in the first place. All he’d tried to do was fix the problem, and _Echo_ was the problem. If he stopped being an echo, if he stopped talking, if he just _left them alone_ , everything would be okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay.

In fact, it got worse. And it was all Echo’s fault.

He wouldn’t want him to say anything either, if he was them.

“However,” General Ti said after a while, “the longer you sit here, the less time there is to say something.”

Someone had to speak. She wanted them to. Echo couldn’t disappoint her and the squad. Not again. He couldn’t keep doing this! He had to say something—

“I think…” 782 said slowly, “we should start.” He shared a look with 2010 and 4040, and both of them nodded, guilty expressions on their faces.

Echo thought he might be sick. He should really stop this before it goes too far. He needed to put an end to this whole thing. Even if 99 didn’t want him to die, that didn’t mean that the rest of the squad wouldn’t think it’s for the best. If they just let Echo get out of the way now, they can get on with their lives. They could finish their training. They’ll get a new member of Domino Squad, or they’ll be split up and shuffled into different contingents. Either way, they’ll be better off. Happier.

So here it was. The moment of truth. They’d all finally stop dancing around the topic and just tell Echo that they think he should—

“I’m so sorry, ‘14,” the older clone said. He’d been trying to catch Echo’s eyes, and finally succeeded when Echo lifted his head so fast there was an audible _pop_ in his neck.

His eyes went a little wide. That couldn’t be right. He didn’t hear that correctly.

“The things we said to you… It was wrong. We were awful, and you deserve so much better. You have every right to not forgive us, and I won’t fault you if you don’t.”

Echo really was feeling nauseous now. There was absolutely _no way_ that he was the one being apologized to. It was just _wrong_. Echo had done so many things — he nearly tore the squad apart — and now he was getting an apology.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see how it was affecting you sooner. I was blind and careless and so, _so_ stupid. I should have noticed.”

Fives took over quickly, drawing Echo’s gaze to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you when I noticed something was wrong. And I’m sorry I called you an echo in the first place,” he said. His thumbs twiddled on the table.

A small flame of justification and satisfaction flared to life in his chest. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like 99 crooned, _”good, they should apologize.”_

_”You deserve this.”_

_”They hurt you, and when someone hurts you, they owe you an apology.”_

But just as quickly as the warmth came, it froze like ice in the pit of his stomach. Shame and guilt flooded his insides, making his stomach churn. He was going to be sick.

Echo shouldn’t think those things. If he hadn’t been so… Well, if he’d been better, they wouldn’t need to apologize. If he wasn’t so sensitive, their words wouldn’t have gotten to him anyway. If he’d been different — if he hadn’t been such an _echo_ — they wouldn’t be in this mess. He wouldn’t be two seconds from a panic attack at any given moment. He could sleep through the night, every night, just like he was supposed to be able to do.

And—

What was he supposed to say? Politeness dictated he accept their apologies, or at least thank them for making them in the first place, but also inform them they were not necessary. But that tasted a lie, and Echo couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t make himself brush off what his squad had said.

Because… the truth was that whether he deserved those apologies or not, he still liked hearing them. They still meant something important to him.

They didn’t have to say they were sorry. No one was making them, or twisting their arms behind their backs just to get them to lie and apologize. Even if they were lies.

Lies… Of course. Of course they were lies.

They were trying to appease him. Trying to trick him into feeling better, so that they can get on with the next two weeks and hopefully make their lives easier.

Echo had already made their lives so much harder than they had to be… He could make this easy for them.

They deserved that much, at least.

“ _Vod_?”

Echo looked up. He hadn’t realized he’d begun staring downwards, as if he could see straight through the table. He cleared his throat and swallowed, letting his hands fall into his lap. His fingers twisted together painfully.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Thank you. I… I appreciate that.”

The words sounded weird and wrong to his ears. There wasn’t anything he could do about that. They needed to be said. It was important that Echo say those things, and let them believe he believed them. The sooner they could get on with this week — with the “healing” — the less effort and strife Echo was going to put them all through.

Unfortunately, he got four near-identical frowns turned on him from his squadmates. Even General Ti was looking at him curiously. None of them spoke for a moment, just stared at him and seemed to scrutinize whatever they saw.

“What?” he asked.

“‘14… That’s not— You don’t have to—” Fives began, but Echo cut him off.

“Listen, Fives…” he sighed. “I just— I accept your apology, alright? Can we just move on?”

“No, _vod_ , we’re not just saying this because we have to. We _want_ to, and you need to hear it—” Once again, Fives was cut off.

The general raised one hand, ever the picture of calm and grace, effectively signalling it was time to stop talking.

“Now, hold on, gentlemen,” the Togruta said. “I think perhaps this is a good time to talk about boundaries between you all. If this is something that 1409 doesn’t want to hear, or isn’t ready to hear, we don’t have to talk about it right now. Not every single matter has to be dealt with right at this moment.

“So, instead, how about we start small. Some simple dos and don’ts to abide by, not just for the remainder of these two weeks, but also going forward as well. 1409? Would you like to start us off? What are some rules you would like your squad to follow from now on?”

Echo searched the Jedi’s eyes, hoping to find some sort of hint. Something to tell him what to say or where to start. Fives’ eyes were still on him, a conflicted look coloring his expression. He knew his squadmate was just waiting for the right time to get back to their previous conversation. Not right now, maybe not even in this group discussion. But Fives had something he wanted Echo to understand, and he wanted to talk about it.

Echo couldn’t figure out why he thought it was so important.

He shrugged, remembering he still had a question to answer. Truth be told, Echo didn’t know what “rules” he wanted. He knew he didn’t want the others calling him by his name, but he’d already told them that. They knew, and they were abiding by it. No need to repeat himself.

“Nothing?” General Ti prompted, calm and casual.

Echo shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Not that Echo thought he could read a Jedi Master, but the Togruta general didn’t seem to quite believe him. His squad, on the other hand, all looked at him with blank, yet skeptical looks.

“ _Vod_...” 2010 said, then trailed off. Echo was sure he knew what his squadmate would say, but he waited him out anyway. After all, he’d certainly become very good at listening in the past several weeks. “‘14, we want the best for you. And I know you don’t believe that right now, and that’s okay. We haven’t done much to prove it recently. But I— _we_ intend to show you that from now on. We don’t want to hurt you anymore, but… We can’t read your mind. You have to tell us when there’s something you do or don’t want us to do.”

Echo sat, nearly gobsmacked. It seemed to be a pattern that his squad said whatever he least expected them to say. It just… it didn’t make sense. Echo didn’t know what to do with it.

He sat there silently for long enough that 2010 spoke again. Echo could tell he was trying not to look too deflated.

“Just think on it, okay? You don’t have to tell us right now. But we are going to need to know…”

Unsure what else to do, Echo nodded and looked away.

He really wanted this particular conversation to be over now.

There was silence for several moments in which Echo looked down at the floor to his left and wondered if the others were watching him. Or perhaps they were doing that thing they did sometimes where they looked at one another and had entire conversations with their expressions alone. Echo remembered a time when he’d been included in those. Now they were all just _about_ him.

He decided he didn’t want to know the answer.

Thankfully, General Ti saved them all from the uncomfortable, stuffy quiet.

“I think we’ll call this session done, gentlemen,” she said slowly. Echo glanced up to see her pushing back her chair. “You are free to spend the remainder of this blocked time as you see fit until midmeal. All I ask is that you stay in pairs or a group, and stay out of trouble.”

The squad stood and acknowledged her with a “yes, sir.” Echo moved his lips like he was saying it, too. It would be disrespectful not to. He didn’t need to add insubordination to his list of transgressions.

“I will see you all promptly in our designated training room afterwards for our next exercise.”

Then she ushered them out into the corridor and watched as they headed off for who knows where.

*

Shaak Ti paced through the halls. She was heading for her quarters, but it hardly mattered if she got there. She used the time to think, sometimes finding it easier to keep her thoughts on track if she was up and moving. Meditation was good for this, too, but walking was always a good alternative.

Perhaps they could consider a moving meditation for CT-1409.

Clearly, the group discussion sessions weren’t the way to go.

Shaak took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before she let it out again. Releasing her mild discouragement into the Force was easy. The Force was willing to take it from her, showing that the feeling wasn’t necessary right then. Merely a passing thought before it was time to move on to the next plan.

She had many plans. If one didn’t work out, there would always be a backup. Shaak Ti had no intentions of allowing 1409 to be taken by the Kaminoans, no matter what the outcome of this week was. But she didn’t quite have a plan for that particular outcome, yet. So for now, it was safest to just continue on as they were, treating their timeline as absolute.

To be perfectly honest, she supposed she should have realized sooner that group discussion wouldn’t work well for Domino Squad. Not yet, anyway. Any important conversations they have will have to be spontaneous, and in situations not enforced by herself or the schedule. Also, it was a little early to expect much to come from such discussions. ‘14 will talk to them, but not all the time, and certainly not with the amount of pressure present in that room.

Shaak was proud of them, though. The squad had, for the most part, given the exercise a fair chance. 1409 struggled, but that was to be expected.

~~She wished she could take him away from this place. Take him to the Temple to be seen by the Healers. That wasn’t an option.~~

So, group discussion was out. That was fine. Shaak could work with that.

It was a change in plan — hardly even a setback. There were many different ways and techniques and options for helping and treating mental illness and trauma. Not every way would work for every person. There was nothing wrong with that, it was merely how it worked. Everyone was different, and would need different ways to do things.

Shaak took another deep breath and picked up the pace a little, making towards her rooms with a purpose. She had work to do.

*

Domino Squad returned to the training room they’d occupied earlier that morning. 782 reminded them all not to overdo anything, given that the day wasn’t even half over yet. Almost without discussing it, they fell into group stretches.

Fives thought it was probably the best option. ‘14 needed to be eased back into everything. He’d never stopped working out or training with them, but he was in no physical shape to keep up. Light activity would be best for now, whether he realized it or not.

Fives had a suspicion that he _did_ know, given how gingerly he carried himself sometimes.

Hopefully more regular sleep and better eating habits would go a long way in correcting that.

‘14 did join them, sitting in the circle between himself and 2010 as they all stretched out tight and aching muscles. They were all carrying way too much stress. If they didn’t do something about that, it would just hurt them in their endeavors over the next several days.

For the first time in a long time, they fell into easy, casual conversation. Fives couldn’t even say exactly what it was about, with how simple it all was. The topics required little to no concentration, and when one of them fell into the autopilot hums and responses, one of the others took up the thread of conversation. It was nice.

‘14 even watched them, also making little sounds of acknowledgement here and there. Fives hoped that was a good thing.

2010 had done well in group discussion, putting a voice to all the thoughts they’d had rattling around in their heads. As much as this was for 1409, he had to work with them if any of them wanted this to end well. Fives and the others were well aware of the _obvious_ things they’d done and actions that needed to change, but who could say if there weren’t other things they’ve been doing that hurt their brother? The only person who could tell them he was hurting was ‘14 himself. And if he didn’t talk to them, well… That was a stalemate Fives knew they wouldn’t survive in the long run.

They stretched for the remainder of the time before midmeal, then headed for the mess to eat.

Fives hoped the second half of the day brought more obvious progress than the morning did.

*

The meal passed quickly and before Echo even knew it, they were in the training room once again with General Ti.

“Hello, Gentlemen,” the Jedi said, which seemed to be how she preferred to greet them. “How was midmeal?”

782 took the lead, telling her that it had been good and uneventful. Echo found he actually agreed with the sentiment. He’d eaten the vast majority of his food, and it wasn’t disagreeing with him. 99 hadn’t been there, but that was fine. Their midday meal times didn’t always line up. Latemeal, though. Echo knew 99 would be there.

“That is good to hear. So, are we ready for our afternoon activities?” she asked.

Echo looked around the room. It was certainly different than it had been the last time they were in there just shy of an hour ago. The general had come in and prepared the space, setting up what might be one of the simplest obstacle courses Echo had ever seen and leaving a couple piles of equipment she had deemed necessary. There were a few long stretches of rope, one tied in a circle and the others not. There were also blindfolds.

Echo didn’t like that notion one bit.

Instead of admitting to that, he swallowed back the bile he could taste in the back of his throat and nodded firmly. He wished 99 was there.

“Good. Now, we’re going to start very simply. Please take a seat with me.”

The Jedi sat on a cushion at her feet. The others followed her example easily. Echo forced himself to sit, too.

“We will start with some simple conversation. With our younglings, we call these Icebreaker questions. They can help “break the ice”, so to speak, and put participants more at ease with one another.”

Echo nodded along with his squad.

Questions, huh? Well, that didn’t seem too hard. He could answer a few simple questions.

Hopefully…

They went around the circle, asking little, nonsense things. What is your favorite color? What stories have you heard from the _ori’vode_? What battalion do you think is the best? What is your favorite food or meal? If you had to pick any training path in the GAR, which would you choose?

Echo answered well enough, he thought. His favorite color was green. He shared a story about Mashal Commander Cody that he’d heard from 99. Echo thought the 104th was the best. (Commander Wolffe was really good, and Echo had heard amazing things about General Plo Koon through 99.) Echo didn’t have a favorite food, but he picked a random one just so he would have something to say. (A shrug probably wouldn’t have been acceptable.) He also thought that being an ARC trooper would be the best, so if he’d answered honestly, that would have been it. But he knew he’d never be that good. He was too much of a liability. That question he really did just shrug to, and said that all the options were equally good and important.

Echo ignored the slightly drawn and concerned looks that got him from the rest of the squad. He didn’t want to think about why.

But so far, Echo decided that he perhaps _was_ feeling a little more at ease than before. Maybe this whole “trust exercises” thing wouldn’t be so bad.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Everything was fine until the blindfolds came out. Even the minutes in which they had to sit as pairs and just maintain eye contact weren’t too bad. Echo actually did better than 2010 or 4040 did. 4040 giggled too much after thirty seconds of silence and 2010 got all fidgety and couldn’t sit still long enough. Echo held perfect eye contact for the whole sixty seconds, sitting still and just waiting for the time to run out. 782 didn’t do too bad, and Fives was able to match him well enough.

But after that, well… That’s when things started to go down hill.

They were indeed meant to go through the obstacle course. There were several different ways to do it, which was good, because General Ti informed them they would be going through a couple times.

On the very first run, she picked up a rope and had them hold onto it, standing in a line. Then they put on blindfolds.

“The five of you will attempt to navigate this course without being able to see. It is up to each of you to help one another and figure it out. If you need help, you are free to ask. The leader must feel out each obstacle and help the next person in line get through it, and so on and so forth.”

Echo already hated it.

They placed him directly in the middle. 782 went first, with Fives next in line. 4040 was behind Echo, and 2010 brought up the reer.

The course itself didn’t go too badly, but Echo hated shuffling along, unable to see, and just waiting for his turn to step in the right places or climb over or under something. He tried to listen when 782 directed Fives, but without actually doing what their leader said, it was hard to figure out what exactly he would have to do and when.

Not that he didn’t try. Fives started to direct him, but Echo was trying to do it the way 782 had said. Unfortunately, that meant he likely attempted it out of order or in the wrong spot or something, because Echo managed to trip and fall to the floor. He didn’t let go of the rope in time and accidentally brought 4040 and 2010 tumbling down with him.

It didn’t hurt — not a lot, anyway — but the frustration welled up quickly regardless.

4040 landed on his leg and Echo wrenched it away. He threw down the rope in his hand and tore off the blindfold with a growl.

He didn’t like not being able to see.

In the light of the room, the obstacle Fives had been about to direct him through was incredibly simple. That knowledge frustrated Echo even more.

He picked himself back up, feeling bad that he’d knocked two of his teammates to the ground. They hadn’t even made it three obstacles in, and Echo had tripped them up.

“Are you alright?” Fives asked, as if the whole issue hadn’t been Echo’s fault in the first place. His own blindfold was slid up over his forehead.

Echo didn’t even know what to say.

782 peered around Fives, one corner of his own blindfold lifted.

“It’s alright,” he reminded them calmly. “We can try again.”

Echo didn’t _want_ to try again.

“Maybe we can go in a different order,” 4040 suggested from the floor. He hadn’t gotten back up yet, but he wasn’t sprawled out uncomfortably anymore. “‘14, do you wanna go first?”

And… Well, _no_. But he didn’t _hate_ the idea.

He shrugged.

They tried it that way. General Ti stood away from them, continuing to just watch, while they reconfigured themselves on the rope. This time, Echo was in the lead. He still didn’t like not being able to see, and feeling like his whole sense of direction had been turned around, but now he could suss out the obstacles for himself.

Once he was through each one, directing 2010 was easy.

It wasn’t so bad.

Once they got through the course the first time, they did it again in a different way. They paired up and went through, two by two. Instead of holding a rope, they held hands. Echo got paired up with Fives.

Fives went first. It wasn’t as bad. Echo tripped once, but the same frustration didn’t rise up and make him tug the blindfold off in irritation. That time, Fives spoke softly and helped Echo up. They waited until Echo’s breathing was under control and his knee wasn’t aching so much, and then they continued.

Even still, he was glad when they were done with the obstacle course.

Except then he realized he shouldn’t have been too glad. He should have known that whatever was coming next would be worse.

“You did well,” General Ti complimented. “We have just a couple more exercises today, then we will have a rest and do some meditation.”

Echo wouldn’t deny he was starting to feel a little shaky. He felt heavy in his limbs and in his eyes. The thought of sitting down and closing them for a while was very enticing. Echo was looking forward to finishing these exercises, if only so he could rest his eyes for a moment.

“The next activity we will try is called the Sentient Knot. Our younglings often have difficulty with this particular game, so we mainly play it in padawan classes, and sometimes as adults, for a little fun.” A glimmer of humor shined in General Ti’s eyes, and Echo thought it made her look very nice. “What I want you to do is stand in a circle, facing one another. Hold out your right hand and grab someone else’s. It may not be the person immediately to your left or right. Good. Now do the same with your left hand. You may not grab the same person’s hand.”

With one hand clasped in 782’s and the other in Fives’, Echo was beginning to understand why this game was called the Sentient Knot.

“Perfect. Now, the point of this game is to unravel yourself so that you once again stand in a circle, holding hands. The only rule is that you may not let go of one another’s hands, or else you must start over.”

Oh, Echo was _much_ too tired for this. His patience was already wearing thin.

Their first attempt devolved into way too much arguing, and no small amount of bruised selves and emotions. Echo would never admit it, but he intentionally let himself slip and fall, letting go of both his squadmates’ hands in the process. Perhaps if they failed now, General Ti would let them stop. Perhaps if _he_ failed enough, they’d realize how pointless all of this was anyway.

Somehow, he doubted that, but the thought was there anyhow.

The second time they tried, before they could even start doing anything, Fives made a suggestion.

“I think maybe this will go better if we pick a clear leader to be in charge.”

The thought was solid, of course. They clones were good soldiers, and usually quite exceptional in what they did. But they did tend to perform better when there was a true, clear leader giving the orders.

“What do you think, ‘14?”

Echo blinked, coming back to the conversation at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “A leader would be good.”

“Would you want to give it a go?”

Echo couldn’t deny fast enough. Absolutely not, he didn’t want to be the leader. Hell. No.

“Then who do you think should be it?”

Before he could shake his head or shrug again, Echo took a moment to really look around at his brothers. In doing so, he found that he actually _did_ have an idea.

“Hevy,” he said after a moment, not thinking.

The others stared at him, 782 in particular.

“What?” Echo asked, looking around at them.

“It’s just — you called me Hevy,” 782 pointed out. “No one but 99’s ever called me that.”

Echo felt himself flush furiously. _Har’chaak_ , why had he done that? Of all people, he should know a thing or two about not calling someone by a name they don’t want. And now, there he was, calling 782 a name he’d not chosen for himself. He really was no better than—

“No, no,” 782 said, cutting off Echo’s apology. “You know what? I like it. You can call me Hevy if you like.”

782— _Hevy_ was smiling at him.

Echo couldn’t help but stare, wide eyed, at the other man. Then, the tiny tug of a smile pulled at his lips.

“Okay. Hevy.”

That go of the Sentient Knot went significantly better, though it was still hard and took a while. They also let their hands slip a couple times, and decided not to start all the way over. As long as they got to the end, then who cared how exactly they did it?

Echo was exhausted by the end.

He all but collapsed into a seated position on the floor, nearly missing one of the cushions. It could have come off as intentional, though Fives’ eye of concern said otherwise. Echo ignored it.

_’Please, please let us go early…’_ he thought pleading, hoping some higher power would hear him.

“Nice work, gentlemen,” General Ti said. “How are we feeling?”

The others gave a few variations of good. Echo just provided a silent thumbs up. It wasn’t up to the amount of respect the general deserved, but truly, all his energy was gone at this point. Besides, she didn’t reprimand him for the lack of effort. The Togruta just nodded and looked the squad over, beginning to speak again.

“We have one more exercise I would like you to try. It’s very simple. Are you up for it?”

Four “yes”s, and Echo knew he didn’t have a choice. He nodded right along, even thought it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

“For this one, we’ll do it two different ways. The first, we call Willow in the Wind. Four of you will stand in a circle — or as close to a circle as you can get — and the fifth will stand in the middle.”

They stood again and did as they were directed. Echo got up with way more effort than he would have liked to put in. They put 2010 in the middle first.

“Good. Now, 2010 will cross his arms over his chest, keeping his hands up almost on his shoulders. 2010, when you’re ready, you will say ‘catchers ready?’.”

He repeated after her.

“The rest will respond with ‘ready’ when they are. 2010 will say ‘falling’, and the response will be ‘fall on’.”

They did as she said.

“Then, 2010, what you’re going to do, is keep your feet planted and the rest of you straight, and just allow yourself to lean. The others will catch you and gently push you around the circle. And when you’re ready to stop, lean back up to a standing position, and you’ll be done.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Hevy said.

The others nodded.

Echo sort of wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Logically, he knew he wouldn’t fall. He knew his squad would be there to catch him. Just over the past day or so, they’d proven that. That didn’t change the hurt they’d caused when he had trusted them implicitly. That didn’t change the fact that they would be better off without him if they _did_ just let him fall.

They would obviously do what they had to to keep him safe.

Echo just wasn’t sure he wanted them to.

Playing the catcher wasn’t so bad. Being there for the others— that’s what he was _meant_ to do. After all, all he’d wanted to do was better the team. He wanted to make their lives easier. He wanted to take care of them. ~~That hadn’t worked well, but…~~ Echo would catch them no matter what.

Even if they were heavy, and his strength and energy were failing him a little. But not once did he drop any of them.

His turn was left for last. He wondered if they’d done that on purpose.

They probably had.

Echo stood in the middle of the circle, surrounded on all sides by his _vode_ , and for the first time, he didn’t feel safe. Even when he hadn’t felt _accepted_ , he had felt safe. They would have protected him, even back when they hated him. ~~Even now.~~ But somehow, Echo couldn’t find it in himself to move.

“Hands on your shoulders, 1409,” General Ti reminded him. He gripped tightly at the red fabric of his shirt.

He said the commands.

“Catchers ready?”

“Ready,” they answered in unison.

“F-falling…”

“Fall on.”

And still, Echo didn’t move.

“Come on, ‘14. We’ve got you,” Fives promised, smiling.

“We’re right here.”

“You’ll be alright.”

“It’s okay.”

The more they talked — the more reassurances he got, the worse he felt. The less ready he was to do it. There were images of him falling right between two of them and faceplanting on the floor. Spectral feelings of their hands on him, and Echo didn’t like _that_ one bit.

What kind of _vod_ was he? He was _scared_ to put himself in his brothers’ hands. His life was _already_ in their hands, and he couldn’t bring himself to do this one little thing. This one act that could provide bonding and healing and trust and all that _jate osik_. And he couldn’t do it. The worst thing that could happen would be that he got a bruise. Or perhaps he got a nosebleed. Certainly nothing worse.

And yet. Echo couldn’t fall. He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t open his eyes to look at them. He couldn’t open his mouth and tell them “no”. He couldn’t even breathe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Oh, _Ka’ra_ , he couldn’t _breathe_.

Echo was suddenly aware of hands on him, of a cool metal floor beneath his knees. Cotton-y, far away voices saying things in his ears.

What was going on? What had happened? Why couldn’t he get any air into his lungs?

He had to breathe! Echo knew how to do this — all he had to do was open his mouth and suck in air until no more would go in. Let it out and do it again.

Again, and again, and again.

Time after time until the voices were here-and-now and his lungs didn’t feel like they were on fire.

That was when he became aware of the arms around his body. He was leaning into someone, his head pillowed on their shoulder. Echo was limp as a dead fish, just crumpled into the person’s hold with no power or energy to so much as reposition himself.

He wanted to sleep. He really, _really_ wanted to just take a nap.

But he couldn’t. Not again.

No, he needed to be making progress, and this wasn’t it. He needed to not have a fit any time something vaguely upsetting or confusing happened.

Echo took another breath and forced himself to sit up. He rubbed at his eyes, thankfully finding his face dry and free of tears. No memory stuck in his mind of what had just happened or how, but at least he hadn’t cried again.

“Sorry,” he croaked out, throat feeling tight and scratchy.

“Don’t be sorry,” insisted the person who’d been holding him. Fives’ voice. “We shouldn’t have pushed.”

Echo shook his head.

“You’re _supposed_ to be pushing me. If you want these two weeks to end with the five of us still together…” He didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t have to have his eyes open or see the rest of the group, either, to know the hurt looks his squad was giving him.

“Hey,” Hevy said sharply. He was suddenly kneeling directly in front of Echo, a hand on his chin and forcing their eyes to lock. “Listen to me. We are in this together. All five of us. I know you didn’t want to hear it earlier, but you’re hearing it now. We are not doing this because we _have_ to. We are trying to help you because we _care_ about you. Don’t believe me if you want — _Ka’ra_ know we haven’t given you reason to trust us. But that’s the truth.”

Echo stared at Hevy, his eyes wide and expression stunned. He didn’t even know what to say, or how to counter that. Technically, he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Hevy made a statement, not an argument. Nothing Echo said or felt about it would change the man’s stance.

And… well, that was more telling than anything else.

He nodded and swallowed, trying to get his throat to work with him again.

“Do you hear me?” Hevy asked. Nothing about him was demanding or mean. In fact, Hevy was being incredibly soft with Echo. The grip on his chin wasn’t hard and it didn’t hurt, though it was firm and brooked no argument about where Echo’s attention should be.

“Yes, Hevy. I hear you.”

Hevy gave a firm, single nod, then let go of Echo’s chin.

“Good.”

When the three of them stood up again, 2010 and 4040 crowded in a little closer, joining the ring.

“Hevy’s right,” 4040 offered, an arm around 2010. “We’re in this together. We’re not gonna let one of our own go down alone.”

2010 nodded. “If one of us goes down, we all go down.”

He was smiling as he spoke, and there was some muted agreement from the rest of the squad. But a thought had suddenly struck Echo like a Venator class cruiser.

That was a problem, wasn’t it? If Echo was found to be too defective, and so broken no amount of help would fix him, then… Well, he would be taken out of the equation altogether. That wouldn’t be a bad thing. But what would happen to the rest of Domino Squad if the _Kaminiise_ took him away? What if they decided the issue didn’t end with Echo himself, and got rid of _all_ of them?

A bolt of fear struck Echo through the heart.

That wasn’t what he wanted! His squad didn’t deserve that!

Echo couldn’t — could _not_ — be the reason the rest of Domino Squad got reconditioned ~~or even decommissioned~~. He would be putting them in danger. Just continuing to _exist_ was putting them in danger.

_’That could be fixed…’_

Echo shook the thought away. Not what he needed to be thinking about right now.

But… the thought did warrant attention. The closer they got to the end of this tenday, the closer they got to the Kaminoans’ decision. And Echo didn’t have much faith that he would pass whatever tests and evaluations they had planned for him.

He didn’t know what they could do to avoid that…

*

“—cho. Echo?”

Echo jerked and blinked, letting 99’s voice bring him back out of his head. He looked up, locking eyes with the older clone. 99 was looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” he asked.

The question was rewarded with a deeper frown of concern. Echo’s heart clenched.

“Are you alright, _vod’ika_?” 99 asked again. “You don’t look so good tonight.”

_Osik_. He’d been hoping he wasn’t acting too out of it. Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Echo scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath. Maybe he could rub some more color into his skin, and force a less… _distressing_ expression onto his face. He dropped his hands back to the table and tried to send a small smile at the older clone across from him. 99’s concern didn’t fade.

“Fine,” he offered. “Just tired, that’s all.”

The answer wasn’t good enough. But in a room full of other _vode_ and no real privacy to speak of, 99 let it go. Echo could feel his squad’s eyes on him, too, but there wasn’t anything to be done about that. They knew he was tired, and they knew why.

Or, they knew part of the reason why, at least.

“Well,” 99 began after a moment, “you might feel a little better if you eat something. Or at least drink some water.”

Echo indulged him. No reason to make the situation worse. He drank the water as requested, and forced down about half of the food on his tray. It sat heavily in his stomach, but at least he wasn’t nauseous. It was something.

He had to be better, though, if he wanted any chance to keep his brothers safe. He had to make some real progress, otherwise…

The rest of the food didn’t get eaten. No one said anything.

Latemeal ended, and they cleaned up their trays. Echo allowed himself to be placed in the middle of the group as they walked back to their bunkroom. 99 came with them.

“Mind if I spend some time with the five of you for the evening?” he asked with a gentle smile.

The others agreed easily, smiling over the prospect of spending more time with the older man. It was always nice to have any of their _ori’vode_ spend time with them. Echo couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it. In fact, he hoped it would help, in the long run.

They got back, and the others spread out on the floor around Hevy’s bed. 99 sat on the bed himself, and Hevy joined him. Fives, 2010, and 4040 formed up around their feet. Echo perched on Fives’ bed.

He wondered for a moment if Fives wanted him there or not. But then he’d glanced over his shoulder and smiled brightly at Echo, and the thought was gone. Fives seemed happy just to have Echo around.

That didn’t make a lot of sense, given that Echo could be incredibly annoying. That was how they’d gotten to this point, after all. By Echo making a nuisance of himself.

_’Maybe it would be better if you just left.’_

Echo laid down on the bed and propped his chin on Fives’ pillow. He wanted to be comfortable while he listened to 99’s stories, after all.

In no time at all, he found himself falling asleep.The soothing baritone of 99’s voice was slow and peaceful. His stories blended together until they were just words, washing over Echo with very little meaning. He was warm and comfy, and in a room full of brothers. Brothers he knew would protect him at any cost.

_’Even at the cost of themselves.’_

In just over a week and a half, his fate would be decided. Not just his — his squad’s, too. If he screwed up bad enough, they could be punished as well. The _Kaminiise_ couldn’t afford to keep any defective products. One bad apple can spoil the bunch, as they say. And Domino Squad was certainly a Bad Apple. They might decide to purge the entire disease, once and for all. Cut the cancer out so it can’t continue to lay waste to the GAR.

Getting rid of Echo wouldn’t be enough for them. All five of them would have to go.

It seemed an impossible task, convincing the _Kamiinise_ that he could function as designed. He would have to eat and sleep and keep up with the squad. He’d have to stop holding them back and pulling them down. He’d have to _talk_. Regularly, and whenever necessary.

Eight days was not enough time to fix everything.

How couldn’t the others see that? Why had the general insisted on buying him time at all, if it was just going to result in this? The others were going to die, and it would be all Echo’s fault.

_’You can change that.’_

A loud _crack_ of thunder boomed through the facility, sending Echo bolt upright in the bed.

The light was out. The others were in their beds. Well, mostly. Fives and Hevy were sharing Hevy’s bunk together, which was amusing given their positions. Hevy seemed intent on attempting to cuddle Fives, but Fives was sprawled all over the place, with his arms and legs thrown about. The sight actually brought a quirk of a smile to Echo’s face.

Another roll of thunder grumbled overhead.

Echo had always loved storms. Maybe he could sneak out, just for a bit. Watch the rain through the nearby door. It looked out over a landing platform, which was good for just watching the ocean. When he had the time, anyway.

Night seemed a good time for ocean watching.

There was a cold sweat all over him, anyway, and his heart wouldn’t slow down. Thoughts lingered on the edge of his mind. He couldn’t quite remember what they were, but he wasn’t sure he liked them.

Echo slid his feet carefully to the floor, thankful his boots were still on. Yeah, just a quick little trip. Just to watch the rain for a moment. That was all.

He padded carefully to the door and keyed it open, hoping the _swish_ didn’t wake any of the others. It closed behind him as he began walking down the hallway.

The landing platform wasn’t far. Just down the hall, one turn, and then a short stretch of hallway. Echo could see it within a minute. He didn’t come across any other brothers on the way, but that made sense. He’d likely gotten up in the middle of a shift. No one would be coming or going right then.

Rain pounded at the transparisteel of the door. Just the sight of the rivulets of water streaming down eased something inside him Tension he hadn’t quite realized he’d been carrying uncoiled just slightly, and suddenly it was a little easier to breathe.

Maybe… maybe he could just step outside. Just for a moment. Feel the rain on his skin, then come back in before he could get totally soaked. He’d have to change his clothes when he got back anyway, so what did it matter? Just… Just for a minute. He wanted to feel the rain.

When the door opened for him, it let in a rush of splattering water. The smell of sea and ozone hit him full force, and Echo felt himself visibly relax. _Yes_ , this was what he’d wanted.

He didn’t want to get water everywhere, though, so he let the door close behind him. Echo hoped it wasn’t one of the automatic locking ones. Some of them were, for whatever reason.

He couldn’t imagine why.

Lightning flashed through the clouds above him. Some strikes were small, just little flickers of white light in the inky black clouds. Others were large and came with world-shaking booms of thunder. A bolt of lightning streaked down and connected with a wave, far out on the water.

Echo nearly whistled. Stars, he would not want to be out there.

But the water… it really was pretty. He liked to watch it.

The waves seemed to move almost in slow motion, peaking and cresting and crashing down again. They came in hard against the supports of the city, battering the large durasteel stilts with everything they had.

There was an awesome, sheer power to the ocean. It was beautiful.

_’Get closer,’_ the voice in his head urged. It had been talking for hours. Echo couldn’t get it to shut up.

~~He wasn’t sure he wanted it to.~~

Keeping an eye on the sky, Echo inched his way closer to the side of the platform. He knew that if lightning were to strike, there would be nothing he could do. No amount of watching and being ready could save him from that, but it was second nature. If he ignored it, he’d have no warning.

He really should go back inside. He didn’t.

The water below was a long, long way down. It was all wine dark and navy blue, topped with crowns of white foam.

Echo wondered what it would feel like to swim in it. To feel the push and pull of the water. To ride the waves, be lifted up high and then drop low into one of the valleys the waves created. He wondered what it would be like for the water to come crashing down. If it would hurt, if it would—

“Stop…” he muttered, shaking his head.

_’Oh, but you want to know,’_ the voice countered.

“I don’t.”

_’You do. And it comes with so many benefits. This can be over — all of it. The Kaminoans won’t have to take you away. Your squad won’t suffer anymore. This will save them…’_

That… was a good point. Without him there, he wouldn’t be around to cause problems. The Kaminoans wouldn’t punish Domino Squad for being defective when their main issue had resolved itself.

Echo took another step closer, leaning further, contemplating the waves.

_’It’ll be better this way,’_ the voice promised. _’Just say yes. All you have to do…_

_’Is fall.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out, but one of these scenes was seriously difficult to finally get on the page. (And I don't think you'd be able to guess which one it was.) I'm hoping the next chapter doesn't take nearly as long, but we'll just have to see. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... not sure what needs to be said that hasn't been said before. Heed the previous warnings, and stay safe, guys. The first scene of this chapter a bit of a doozy, I'm sorry.

Fives came awake silently, which he counted as a blessing, all things considered. He was sprawled out, nearly on _top_ of Hevy, but clearly their squad leader didn’t mind. The _vod_ was fast asleep, with one arm thrown over Fives’ waist.

Fives could feel his heart beating hard, starting to slow down. Tingles sent static and nervous energy through his limbs, like he should be up and running from something.

_Ka’ra_ , he really hoped that dream didn’t become a regular part of his nightly routine. The last thing he needed was to be kept awake at all hours of the night by his own fears when they had so many other things to worry about.

Thankfully, the rest of the room seemed to be in order. 4040 and 2010 were still in their beds, sleeping soundly, and ‘14 was right where he’d fallen asleep earlier. Fives didn’t think he’d even made it through the first of 99’s stories before he was out. Honestly, Fives wouldn’t have expected anything different. ‘14 was exhausted, and they had all seen it. He needed the sleep, and now, he seemed to be getting some.

_’Good,’_ he thought to himself. Seeing their squadmate sound asleep was something of a relief on Fives’ slightly frayed nerves.

Or, not so sound, as it turned out.

1409 jerked awake and sat straight up with a gasp between one breath and the next. A loud crack of thunder seemed to shake the world at the same time. Fives, not knowing what else to do, and not thinking straight, closed his eyes again. If he pretended he was asleep…

Well, what good would that do? ‘14 might need help or reassurance. Fives couldn’t just lie there and pretend not to be available to help him. ‘14 certainly wouldn’t take it upon himself to get up and _ask_ Fives or one of the others for help.

Fives listened for a moment, though, waiting to see if ‘14 might just lie down again and go back to sleep. That’s what Fives had been planning to do after his own nightmare. Given ‘14’s recent past of not sleeping well though, Fives wasn’t sure what he would do.

That was when he heard boots touch the floor lightly and a body slide gently off a bed.

Maybe ‘14 needed to visit the ‘fresher.

Fives peeked an eye open to see what his squadmate was doing. It could just be that he wanted to change into something more comfortable for sleep.

The door to the hallway opened, and Fives watched as 1409 crept through it, quiet as a mouse.

He frowned, sitting up and dislodging Hevy’s arm. Where was he going? They had a ‘fresher connected to the room. There was no reason to leave and go anywhere else.

They weren’t even _allowed_ to go anywhere else.

Fives didn’t even think before he stood up and followed his brother.

_’I just want to see where he’s going. That’s all…’_

Luckily, the door to their room paused a few seconds once someone walked through it before closing again, and Fives caught it just in time. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, but that would have to be fine.

It occurred to him that he had no plan for if they got caught.

‘14 made his way quietly through the hall and around a corner. When Fives rounded the bend, he found his squadmate paused just inside the transparisteel door to one of the landing platforms. Thunder rolled, even easier to hear now that they were so close to the outside.

Fives didn’t know what was going on. ‘14 was just… standing there. Staring outside.

After a moment, 1409 keyed the door open and stepped through to the outside with only a second’s hesitation. Rain poured down and drenched him in seconds. The door shut behind him, and Fives took the opportunity to move closer.

“What are you doing?” he breathed.

Fives wished he could see his batchmate’s face. That might have given him some clue as to what was going on. As it was, he could glean nothing useful.

“Come on, ‘14. Tell me something…”

Slowly, as if dazed and unsure how to move himself with purpose, ‘14 drifted closer and closer to the edge of the platform. Fives’ mouth went dry. He’d _really_ like his squadmate to move away from the edge now.

Just turn around and come back inside. _Please._

‘14 came to a stop, the toe of one boot hanging just slightly over the edge of the flat part of the platform. He was leaning forward slightly, seemingly watching the water down below.

Fives couldn’t watch anymore.

He keyed the door open and stepped out into the storm.

“ _Vod_!” he called out. He had to fight against the wind and the rain to be heard, and still ‘14 didn’t respond. “ _Vod_!”

1409 swayed slightly. Fives felt his heart jump into his throat.

He lunged, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t slip and accidentally pull them both over the side. Thankfully, he kept his feet as he latched onto ‘14’s hand and pulled him away from the edge.

It seemed to snap his squadmate out of whatever headspace he’d found himself in. He stared at Fives with wide eyes.

“Fives?” he asked, blinking against the rain. “What are you doing out here?”

Fives nearly laughed. He knew it would have sounded rather hysterical had the sound actually been allowed to escape.

“Me?” he demanded instead. “What are _you_ doing out here?”

‘14 glanced away, and Fives just _knew_ whatever he was about to hear would be a lie.

“I just… I needed some air.”

Bantha shit.

“‘Needing some air’ doesn’t constitute leaning yourself over the side of the landing platform,” he accused.

His brother wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Fives knew they should go back inside. He should get them out of the rain and out of danger. Out there, they were liable to be struck by lightning, and boy, that wouldn’t be pleasant. Something told him he would have a hell of a time getting them both back in though. 1409 had his boots on and had more traction than Fives did.

“What’s in your head?” he asked, trying to pull them at least closer to the building. No need to be the tallest things on the platform, after all.

‘14 might have made a sound, but the thunder drowned it out. He shook his head and pulled against Fives’ grip on his wrist.

“No, come on, ‘14. Talk to me,” Fives pleaded with him, ducking his head and trying to catch his brother’s eyes. “ _Please_.”

“It’ll be better if you don’t know… Just go back inside.” 1409 kept his eyes shut tight, either so Fives couldn’t look at him or so that he didn’t have to see Fives. “Leave me.”

_Leave me._

Fives did catch that. It wasn’t “leave me here.” It wasn’t “leave me alone.”

Just “leave me”.

Fives’ blood ran cold.

“No,” he argued. His grip tightened. It must have been painful. He didn’t want to hurt his batchmate, but he couldn’t risk letting go. He couldn’t give an inch, not yet. “Absolutely not. I’m not leaving you anywhere. Talk to me.”

“No!”

Fives yanked ‘14 closer so he could latch onto his other wrist. The slightly younger clone fought him, trying to pull away, moving them closer to the edge again.

“Let go!”

“I can’t do that, _vod_ , and you know why.”

“Yes you can!”

“No, I can’t.”

“You’ll be better off without me! If I go now, I’ll stop hurting you!”

Fives frowned. “What? You’re not hurting us—”

“But what if they take all of you, too? We’re never going to make it through this, and they might take the four of you away!”

Fives stared at ‘14 as he opened his eyes and looked to him. Tears welled and fell from his eyes, mixing with the rainwater running down his cheeks.

“I don’t want you to die!” ‘14 cried. He trembled. Fives didn’t know if it was from the cold or his own thoughts. “I never wanted to hurt you, and I’m so sorry I’ve put all of us through this. I’m sorry that I’m going to get us all killed!”

“We’re not going to—”

“Just let me go. I can stop it. I want to save you.” ‘14 stared at him, pleading. “Please, Fives… I want to stop hurting. I want to keep the four of you safe…”

Fives felt his own tears on his cheeks, falling but never leaving any tracks for all the rain dripping from his hair. 1409 looked at him as if Fives was the only thing in the world that mattered. As if he could end all his suffering right then and there, and all he had to do was let go.

All he had to do was let him die.

Fives’ breath hitched. He shook his head, slowly at first and then with more vigor.

No, he couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let ‘14 throw himself away just to save all of them.

The fight left his brother’s body like it had never been there. ‘14 let out a tortured, heartbroken sound and fell to his knees, his head hanging forward on his neck. Fives watched him break, crying and shaking.

Carefully, Fives lowered himself to his knees in front of his brother. He released ‘14’s wrists, but only so he could wrap his arms fully around him, holding tightly. It was almost a surprise when he felt ‘14 lift his arms and cling to Fives, like he was the only thing in the world keeping him from falling apart. And maybe in that moment, he really was.

Fives tried not to think about it and tucked his head, pressing his cheek to ‘14’s soaked hair.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, wondering if he’d even be heard. “I’m so sorry. But I can’t let you do this. I love you, and I’m not letting you go.”

‘14 shuddered and gripped him tighter. Fives wondered if he’d really heard him, or if it had just been coincidence.

*

Fives didn’t know how long it took to get the both of them up and back inside. It was difficult to judge time when all he had to go off were their own ragged breaths and the distant crashing of the waves against the facility supports. ‘14 didn’t let go of him for a long time, and Fives was fine with that. He didn’t let go of ‘14, either.

Getting back to their bunkroom was a little harder. They were both drenched, and his companion’s ability to walk seemed to be greatly diminished. Puddles of water appeared in their wake, slicking the floor and threatening to send them crashing down.

“The room isn’t far…” Fives muttered, encouraging them both to go a little faster. It shouldn’t take long to get back, but he really didn’t want them to be caught. As it was, he knew there were security cams basically everywhere. Whoever was on duty had most assuredly seen them. Hopefully they were only brothers, and would know to look the other way.

Fives could only hope that was the case.

It didn’t take long, but finally, Fives was dragging them both through the door. He keyed it shut behind them, bathing them in darkness.

The other three were still asleep, and Fives couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or not. Eventually, he figured it was. They both needed to change into something dry, then maybe they could lay down. Perhaps Fives could get ‘14 to sleep some before morning came.

Maybe _Fives_ could get some sleep. He was exhausted.

‘14 was good and worked with him as they stripped out of their soaked clothing. Fives pressed a clean, dry set of sleep clothes into his batchmates hands before he turned around and dressed himself. Thankfully, ‘14 took the initiative to pull on the clothes himself, even though his movements were sluggish.

Upon facing a dressed and dry ‘14, and their empty bunk bed, Fives wasn’t sure what to do next. He didn’t want to leave ‘14 alone — _couldn’t_ leave him alone, truth be told. Putting him up in his bed all by himself was a glutton for punishment. He could slip out again, once Fives was asleep, and— well…

Besides, Fives didn’t like the idea of being apart, if only so he could hold ‘14 close.

Without saying much of anything, Fives sat on his own bed and tugged his brother down with him.

“Stay with me,” he said, the words quiet and sighed under his breath. ‘14 didn’t respond in any verbal way, but he allowed Fives to maneuver them into a comfortable position. He even wrapped his arms around him, tucking his nose (which was still damp and freezing cold) against Fives’ neck.

At first, Fives hadn’t thought either of them would get to sleep. But within minutes, ‘14 seemed to be out like a light, and he found himself dropping off right after him.

Words left his mouth without his conscious permission, whispered into ‘14’s damp hair.

“Sleep well, Eya’ka…”

*

Droidbait wasn’t the first one awake in the morning. Above him, ‘40 was already stirring, joining the land of the living for the day.

That was good. Some days, he had the job of getting him up, and ‘40 wasn’t a morning person. He’d never been late before, but boy did he dislike being woken up. Droidbait didn’t like having to do it.

Sitting up, he noticed two of their members were still asleep.

Fives and ‘14 were asleep on Fives’ bed, wrapped up together tightly. They were sharing a blanket, which wasn’t quite big enough to cover the both of them, but they didn’t seem to mind.

‘Bait smiled. They were cute. It was nice to see ‘14 being close with any of them. Sharing Fives’ bed for the night wasn’t the first step he’d thought they’d take, but it was something. It was progress.

Droidbait got up and dressed in a clean uniform. They put off waking the other two for as long as they could. Seemed they must have been up late, to be tired enough that they were still sleeping. Droidbait wished to not have to wake them at all. ‘14 deserved and needed the rest.

Fives began to stir, though, coming awake with a deeper breath and blinking against the harsh white lights of the room.

“‘Morning, _vod_ ,” ‘Bait offered with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

He let his smile drop when all Fives did was frown silently and look down at ‘14.

“No,” he said, finally, after they’d all waited in uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t.”

A pit formed in Droidbait’s stomach.

“Nightmares again?” Hevy asked.

Fives shook his head, daring to extricate himself from ‘14’s hold. It worked well enough. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He blocked the light from their batchmate in his new position, hiding him slightly from view. Another deep breath and a vigorous rub across his face, and that was all Droidbait needed to know something was seriously wrong.

“No… Well,” he paused, then amended, “not in the traditional sense.”

Then Fives looked at them all directly, urgency hardening his eyes. He motioned them closer and they complied without question. Fives lowered his voice, beginning to talk quickly and quietly.

“Listen. Last night, something happened. I woke up, and ‘14 was leaving the room. I followed him and found him outside, ready to throw himself off the platform.”

‘Bait’s eyes went wide.

“He tried to kill himself?” ‘40 asked.

Fives nodded, mute for a second.

“He wanted to. I stopped him, and brought him back in.” He scrubbed his hands over his face again and glanced at ‘14 laying behind him. Still in his sleep. “Don’t leave him alone. Listen— I’m serious. He’s not to be alone, no matter what. No matter what he says or what you’re doing, he can’t be alone.”

Droidbait nodded along with Hevy and ‘40, deadly serious.

“What are we going to do?” he asked under his breath.

Fives shook his head and sighed. “We’re gonna have to tell General Ti, but… other than that, I don’t know…”

No one else had any suggestions, either. They waited in silence, letting ‘14 sleep for as long as they could. Only when they couldn’t push it off any longer did Fives rouse him and get him presentable enough. The squad arrived at firstmeal only a little late.

*

Fives ate quickly. He had a very limited amount of time to find the general before she found them. Talking to her privately about what happened last night was crucial. Fives had no desire for ‘14 to be there or even around when he told her. So getting to her before firstmeal was over was key.

Thankfully, ‘14 only shot him a couple of questioning glances as he scarfed down his food. Fives just encouraged him to eat his own food, and washed down his own… “eggs” with a swig of water. Once his plate was clean, he stood, asking Hevy to take care of his tray for him.

He claimed to need to use the ‘fresher before they got started for the day. It was a flimsy excuse, but ‘14 didn’t question it and the squad knew what he was up to. Hevy just nodded and waved him off, casual as anything.

Fives wished he could be that casual.

As he neared the door, his eyes caught on a familiar figure.

99 was seated at a different table, filled with a group of some older clones. Fives couldn’t place the others, and wasn’t familiar with them. But in that moment, even if he had known them, it wouldn’t have mattered. A thought at occurred to him, and it was imperative he acted upon it.

Without losing a step, Fives changed course and approached the table.

“Ah, look,” one of the _vode_ said. “A little cadet. What can we do ya for, little brother?”

Fives didn’t react. He wasn’t _that_ new, and he wasn’t “little”. It hardly mattered.

“99,” he said, looking only at his _ori’vod_. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

Or, as alone as they could get, anyway.

99’s eyes seemed to scan him, but he nodded after only a second. He stood.

“Sure, Fives. Of course.”

He led them away from the table until they stood by a wall along the edge of the mess hall, with no one’s eyes on them.

“What’s wrong?” 99 asked, his tone low.

Fives hunched slightly, trying not to seem to obvious. No one was watching them yet, and hopefully it would stay that way. Looking around like they were checking was a sure fire way to look suspicious, though.

“Something happened last night. It was… _bad_.”

99’s eyes immediately flickered away and scanned across the sea of clones in the mess. Fives knew the moment they landed on ‘14, guaranteeing his presence and relative safety. Tension that had seized the older clone seeped out of him slightly and a low breath followed the confirmation.

“I won’t give you too many details just now,” Fives told him lowly. “But you should talk to him. I don’t think he’s ready to _talk_ to any of us about it, but someone needs to talk to him.”

99 nodded, his expression firm as durasteel, but relaxing into something casual, as if Fives was only telling him about a mess that needed cleaning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take care of it, Fives. Thanks for letting me know.”

Fives nodded once. “I’m off to find General Ti and ask about some training stuff before first block. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

99 smiled, the expression tight at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah. Looking forward to it.”

They said their goodbyes and 99 headed back for the table he’d come from. Fives returned his attention to his current mission.

Find General Ti. Figure out what the kriff they were going to do.

*

It would sound obvious, but finding a Jedi in Tipoca City was much harder than Fives would have liked it to be. He knew she wasn’t in the mess hall, and as he checked all the places he’d hoped to find her, the Togruta general was nowhere. It was as if she had disappeared.

Perhaps she just hadn’t left her quarters for the rotation yet, and in that case, Fives wasn’t sure what to do. He really needed to talk to her _before_ meeting up with the rest of the squad for training, but if he couldn’t even _find_ her…

He was running out of time.

And of course, just as Fives was becoming desperate, _she_ found _him_.

“Good morning, Fives,” came a serene voice from behind him.

Fives spun quickly. There she was, walking calmly down the corridor as if nothing was amiss. General Ti held her head high as she always did, her hands folded together and hidden within the sleeves of her robe.

He let out a sigh of relief.

_’Thank Force…’_ he thought to himself.

“Good morning, General,” he responded quickly. “I need to talk to you.”

She dipped her head in a gentle bow of acknowledgement.

“99 said as much when I passed him just a few moments ago.” The Jedi swept past him, making a ‘follow me’ gesture. “Come, with me.”

Fives complied without question.

She led them up to a door he’d never been in before. He’d passed it a couple of times, he was sure, but Fives couldn’t say what he thought the room was.

Turned out, it was General Ti’s personal quarters.

Any other time, Fives would feel awkward and debate whether or not he be allowed inside. Today though, he had better things to worry about.

The Jedi keyed the door closed behind them and gestured for Fives to take a seat at the small table that existed near the tiny kitchenette.

“Here will be better for talking,” she told him. “None of the cams and audio recorders work in here.”

Fives frowned. He wondered if she had intentionally broken them, or if it was something to do with the Force. Or perhaps just a very helpful brother.

It wasn’t important. He shook the thought away

“99 sounded urgent,” General Ti continued. “What happened?”

Fives sighed and paced a little, not taking the offered seat at the table.

“‘14 was going to kill himself last night.”

The Jedi’s eyes went very wide very quickly. She didn’t even bother to school the look away and act as if she’d not expected anything different.

“What?” she asked.

Panic sent tendrils of anxiety through Fives, speeding his heart rate. He alternated between pacing and fidgeting, something he’d never been much prone to doing.

“I woke up, and he was leaving the room. I followed him outside, but he didn’t know I was there. It looked like he was going to fall from the landing platform, so I grabbed him and he started begging for me to let him die,” he explained quickly. He was beginning to feel slightly out of breath. “He believes that he’ll get taken at the end of all this, and if they take him, they’ll take us, too. So he thinks that the only way to save us is to kill himself. He thinks he’s hurting us! Him! Hurting _us_! I mean— what kind of sense does that make?!”

Fives was vaguely aware that he was starting to sound a little deranged, but he couldn’t help it. The words wouldn’t stop coming, and he couldn’t believe this was real, anyway.

“He almost died. _We_ could have died! _Ka’ra_ , he might still die, and there might not be a karking thing any of us can do about it—”

“Fives!” General Ti called, suddenly standing immediately in front of him with her hands on his shoulders. It was the closest they’d ever been. The proximity was enough to shock him into silence. “Listen to me. None of you are going to die.”

“But they—”

She shook her head, cutting him off.

“I will admit, this has gone far beyond my own expertise. But none of you will die. I am absolutely sure of it.”

Fives bit his lip and noticed, suddenly, that he was shaking.

“ _How_ can you be sure?”

A serious and contemplative look replaced the one of fear and concern.

“I do believe it’s high time I speak with the Council. I will require help to get us all out the other side of this. But even so, I need you to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

General Ti looked Fives dead in the eye, awaiting his reaction. He swallowed and steeled himself. Fives drew himself up to his full height, and nodded, firm as durasteel.

He would do anything for his brother, his squad.

“Good,” the Jedi acknowledged. “Now here’s what we’re going to do…”

*

Echo could feel their eyes on him. He tried to eat, but with his squad staring him down from the corners of their eyes, it was even more difficult than usual. The food felt gummy and glue-like in his mouth. It stuck in his throat and settled like lead in his stomach once he was finally able to swallow. The water didn’t help much.

Fives, at least, wasn’t staring at him like that. Echo did turn a questioning look on his brother though, as he bolted down food as fast as he could. Fives had just told him to eat and taken a swig of his water.

But then he’d left.

Echo knew he wasn’t alone. Hevy, 2010, and 4040 were still there, watching him, but Fives had gone and left.

They hadn’t been touching, but suddenly his right side where Fives had been felt much colder.

“Where did he say he was going?” Echo asked Hevy, poking his fork at the synthesized eggs on his tray.

Hevy put another forkful of food in his mouth and chewed before answering.

“‘Fresher. Didn’t go earlier,” he said. “And the general’s probably got some big plans for us today, so going sooner rather than later’s probably best.”

Echo nodded, mostly to himself. Hevy could see him, definitely, but he was sure acting like he couldn’t.

And come to think of it… Echo hadn’t gone to the ‘fresher yet, either. He’d brushed his teeth, but that was all they had time for to still get to firstmeal at least vaguely on time.

“I have to go, too,” he said, grabbing at his tray and going to stand up.

Hevy just shrugged and knocked back the rest of his water.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll leave early and stop on the way.”

Echo’s brows knitted together, his eyes narrowing at his squadmate.

“I can go by myself.”

Hevy nodded. “Yeah, I know. But I kinda have to go, too. Easier to just all go at the same time, right?”

“Then what about Fives?”

He didn’t miss 2010 and 4040 sharing a furtive look between themselves.

“Couldn’t wait.”

Yeah, even Hevy’s casual attitude was beginning to get suspicious. Echo didn’t like it.

And, well… He wasn’t sure what else he should have expected. The others were awake before him earlier, and all of them had an odd sense about them. They were casual, but overly so. Added to it the eyes constantly on him during the meal, and now the _almost_ reluctance to let him out of their sight…

Echo should have seen this coming. He should have known this would happen.

Fives told them about last night. And the strange thing was… Echo didn’t blame him. Oh, he wished he could have gone through with it. It was still the best option, hands down. Nothing would change that. Though, in the light of day — or, “light”, relatively speaking — the whole thing seemed…

Echo didn’t know. It was hard to describe. Though if Fives _hadn’t_ been there, and he’d been allowed to fall, the rest of the night wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t and outright _couldn’t_ deny that sleeping curled up with Fives had been the best few hours of sleep he’d gotten since…

Well, a long time ago. He’d just leave it at that.

And all things considered, Echo supposed that if he’d been in Fives’ position… he couldn’t say he would have done anything differently. If it had been Fives, or Hevy, or anyone else, Echo would have stopped them. He would have pulled them away, pulled them back. Gotten them inside and curled up around them, too. He wouldn’t want to stop looking at them, either.

He wanted to sigh and slump and just put an end to this charade already. It was only going to tire them all out and get them frustrated. If they continued to act all innocent and fine, he’d only be causing more problems for them in the long run.

Not that he could say anything yet. He couldn’t just come right out with it in the mess hall of all places. Brothers knew not to look, but the trainers? The _Kaminiise_? No, they’d pick up on it in a heartbeat. (Or whatever they had, because Echo was certain it wasn’t hearts.)

So he settled back into his seat and picked up his fork again. If he wasn’t going to go to the ‘fresher, then he would at least _attempt_ to eat, like he knew they wanted him to.

“Okay,” Echo conceded. “I can wait.”

Hevy smiled at him and returned to his food, watching him still.

Echo sighed internally. It would be a long day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I've created a discord to talk about my writing and fics and stuff. If you're interested, or just wanna come by and hang out and chat, feel free! [This is the link.](https://discord.gg/ZNhmHqQHeH)


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